The Hybrid Project
by Aura Kage
Summary: AnkuleiShlorounDristhfill, voluntary testsubject for new morphing technology, always wants to make a difference her chance comes when the Ellimist interferes...on chapter 14!
1. Kafit Cat l Ankulei

Notes:

--Whee…this fic was previously finished, but awfully – and now I'm rewriting it! Happy day. ^^ *sing* Formerly called "Hybrid Morpher."

--It's been a while since I've read Animorphs, though…so please excuse me if I get something wrong, like a misspelled name or an incorrect rank or something. O.o;;

--This takes place maybe a week after the disappearance of the _Rachel_, after some of the more "high-ranking" Andalites on the Andalite home world have been informed of the disappearance of Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.

****

~Disclaimer (for the entire fic): I, Aura Kage, do not own anything that belongs to K.A. Applegate…such as basically all of the material in here like Andalites and Animorphs.

  


The Hybrid Project

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Chapter 1

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill

By Aura Kage

  


My name is Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill. I am what Andalites call an _estreen_, one with an unconscious ability to make morphing seem beautiful, intricate – as if I was controlling the entire process myself. But in reality, maybe _estreen_ is not the proper way to describe me – my prowess with manipulating Andalite technology is not a talent. It is learned.

I am a _decol_ – a test subject. A voluntary _decol_. Though I know that my superiors would never place me through anything they thought potentially deadly, sometimes I'm afraid of what they do…sometimes. Other times, I am happy. Morphing is a privilege, one that I enjoy greatly.

And I'm proud to know that I am the prototype of a new generation of morphing. Proud to know that I at least can contribute to Andalite society, even if I do not become a great battler contributing to peace…which, to me, sounds very contradictory.

But even if I _do_ have a very private wish to become one of those oxymoron-ed Andalites, who cares?

Maybe it's foolish of me to want to fight. I've heard the stories of those forever tainted in some way by wars…War-Prince Alloran the Hork-Bajir Butcher, "Jake Berenson" the Yeerk-Killer of the distant planet Earth. But sometimes…to have this power of mine…and not be able to do anything with it other than be subject to experiments…

But perhaps it isn't a wish to fight after all – perhaps it's just that feeling that they say one attains, sometimes, looking above when the sun leaves the faintest static of electrical ways vibrating along the atmosphere. When the clouds have fled behind the horizon on their verdant wings, and the sun with them – and the skies are bared, exposing its secrets and leaving so many mysterious wound in into the infinite spools and caches of stars and planets and universes. So much life. So much _being_.

Looking out and feeling…you are not even large enough, bright enough, to shine like that star a billion years of light away.

It's a horrible, helpless feeling. But I must follow Andalite protocol. Perhaps one day it will change…and I'll find my meaning. Perhaps Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill and his great brother were powerful enough to go against Andalite law as it was so long ago. But they weren't me.

~

Begin, the voice said from behind the protective screen. I nodded my still-Andalite head and focused on the DNA of the various creatures that swam in my bloodstream, through my three hearts and out again. I was in a pure white room with brilliant lights set in the ceiling. How the startling brightness of the room would help me with my morphing, I didn't know – but I had to agree that it gave it all a certain "experimental" feel.

So I began. Today would be the _kafit_ bird and an Earth creature by the name of _Felis catus_, common called a cat, whose DNA had been shipped to the Andalite home world especially for my use. The cat was a predatory creature that fed on small rodents and birds – but I had before morphed a Taxxon, so I was not daunted by the possibility of any feral instincts that it might possess.

I envisioned the cat's clever, curious visage melding from my own, and distantly felt the changes in my face as I did. A whiskered muzzle erupted from my face, short and blunt, and my vision blanked for a moment before reappearing in a monotonous black and white, sharpening to an awesome pinpoint clarity. I saw all movement. Movement was all that mattered, and as my spectrum faded, I was less distracted by such trivial things as "color."

I felt my stalk eyes bend to the side, flatten and become the thin triangular membranes that were the cat's ears. My own ears melted away into ashen, almost black fur, and the pelt spread over my body. My hooves softened into paws, and I flexed the retractable claws thoughtfully. My tail blade melted away into the weapon-less cat's tail, much to my disappointment, but I felt the sense of perfect balance that came with it.

And then, I was the cat. Confident predator, slightly hungry – but not to the aggravating extent of perpetual starvation that was of a Taxxon. I blinked up at the Andalite behind the window, feeling contented, and a strange involuntary rumbling bubbled from somewhere in my chest.

Good, the Andalite said, looking down at me with his main eyes, stalk eyes glancing elsewhere. No doubt at the control boards or at another Andalite. Now the _kafit_ bird.

I nodded – a human expression that I had come to use myself after the many months of Earth news patched on the Andalite civilian net – and concentrated…saw the _kafit _bird's half-dozen wings, feathered orange, come up from the cat's back…

FLOMF!

Almost immediately they sprouted up, first mere bones, then slowly feathering as I directed each vane to come out like orange tendrils stemming from my growing flesh. For a fleeting moment I felt the cat's body collapse, and my stomach heaved – a familiar pain, from my body rejecting the fact that I was going straight from one morph into another.

__

Concentrate. Concentrate.

The cat's body held, though some of its fur was tinged blue in a subconcious desire to return to my true form, and I finally stopped at a point of exhaustion, four wings fully formed and the two left fleshed but not feathered.

I cannot go further, I informed Fradulan-Drisrouth-Semulan. Fradulan looked down at me, disappointment clear in his eyes.

Demorph, he commanded finally, and I reversed both morphs – the _kafit_ bird and the cat – in relief. I could never hold "hybrid" – otherwise known as "crossbreed" – morphs for very long, which was perhaps a good thing, as we did not yet know the time limit for that particular "type" of morph. As it was, I doubted that I could hold a hybrid-morph for more than an hour – my record was forty-five Andalite minutes in a hybrid-morph of the _kafit_ bird and another Andalite bird. They were both similar, and familiar, so the level of difficulty was minimized.

As I demorphed, familiar Andalite features returning, I saw another Andalite gallop up to Fradulan, with a frantic-ness that was usually unseen in Andalites – running, unless one was grazing, usually signified some type of danger. One of the classes that I had continued after quitting the Academy was anatomy and life sciences – I learned, interestingly enough, that primal Andalite "feelings" were strung to panic at any other one of us while running. I felt by hearts' beats quicken, and hastened the morph, straining to perceive the thoughtspeak.

I only heard one word, but it was enough to raise my heartbeats to a rapid pummeling against my chest.

Aximili…


	2. Would You Help? l Ankulei

Notes:

--To SunsetDolphin: I thought that maybe the Andalites should know about Jake…I mean, he did help to end the war. O.o;;

--…going to bring the other Animorphs into this soon. :P

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 2

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill

By Aura Kage

I strode towards the entrance-door of the white room, the thoughtspeaking growing louder as I neared. But the experimentation room was large, made so in case a morph grew out of control – still I only heard snatches of conversing from the Andalites, as they trusted in my distance that I would not hear them.

…Fighter…missing…

Pause.

But…happen? All…?

Yes. So far only few have been notified of the disappearance, but – The Andalite paused suddenly and turned to me, stalk eyes still transfixed on Fradulan. Who are you?

_Decol _Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill, I replied politely, looking at him with every one of my four eyes from behind the window. The Andalite lowered his stalk eyes a bit, the Andalite equivalent of a human's acceptant nod.

Ah…the _decol_, the Andalite said. I narrowed my stalk eyes at him, but he paid no attention to me and continued to speak with Fradulan – privately, pointedly leaving me out of the conversation.

__

Decol? Experiment? Yes, that was what I was, but…

But…what? Was I offended? Was that it? Was I offended by a name that I knew I would have earned when I left the Academy in favor of being prototype to new morphing technology instead?

I put away my angry feelings as if they were merely scattered stones across a field and opened the door with my delicate hands. Without glancing at Fradulan and the Andalite he was speaking with, I walked out of the structure dedicated to scientific advancement.

It was a rather large building, but was not quite as large as, say, an Andalite Dome Ship. Its exterior was not a powerful show of money, not made to induce a sudden aura or importance. It looked like any other Andalite scoop, only larger. Its anatomy, however, was the complete opposite – I hardly knew one-sixth of the building myself, and couldn't understand a word of what my "teacher" Fradulan spoke of when he went onto one of his long rambles about morphing. I didn't need to, afterall. I only needed to perform.

I opened the exit (or entrance) door and walked out, then stopped suddenly on the grass outside and looked up at the stars. There were so many of them – and perhaps over half of them were other worlds, with hundreds of species and beings. I had thought about it many times before, but for some reason the sheer vastness of it all struck me exceptionally hard tonight – thousands, _millions_ of other beings, perhaps sentient. Millions! No chance that in my lifetime I would encounter all of them. No chance.

I forced my main eyes away from the sky and took a step forward – and then wondered why I was _walking_ back to my scoop. I did, afterall, possess a _kafit_ bird in my blood, didn't I?

So thinking, I focused, invoked the image of the _kafit_ in my mind, clear as if I was seeing one myself. The _kafit_ bird was my favorite morph out of the ones that I had acquired, perhaps because it could fly and was also native to the Andalite home world. The _particular_ _kafit_ bird that I had acquired had kept territory in the area of my family's scoop, so it had been something of a friend, a neighbor.

Of course, that _kafit_ bird had also died a year ago…sometimes the thought that the _kafit_ bird lived now only in me made me feel…uncomfortable.

Feeling my focus weaken, I banished each of my thoughts and concentrated totally on the morph. I brought my arms out before me and saw my blueness brighten into a dull orange, then lengthen into feathers. My arms grew thicker, stronger; and then came a part of morphing that was considered by most (Andalite or not) to be quite disgusting – for my skin, which at the moment was growing only soft Andalite fur, seemed to dry and shrivel and wither into nonexistent, displaying for heartbeats the inner workings of my own arm. Bones were reforming, becoming hollow, then sliding backwards and twisting; veins shook like little Earthen snakes and repositioned themselves around bone; and then the skin slid over again, screened in supple down that lengthened to feathers.

It looked painful. But this part of morphing I knew, at least minimally – there were two theories. The first theory was simple: merely, when the flesh began to shift, the nerves were pushed out of shape and their properties altered, so they could no longer as easily or strongly message the brain as they could when things were stable. When the morph was completed, the nervous system set back into the body's other systems.

The other was Fradulan's prized theory, which he guarded ferociously. He had formed it when he had started study, and I was the first to know: as soon as the portion of the mind that controlled morphing was activated, it released a natural painkiller that momentarily sent the nervous system out of function.

Fradulan's was not a widely accepted theory, but skies forbid anyone speak ill against it in _his_ hearing.

A sharp predatory beak grew from my face, and my stalk eyes dropped down against my skull and formed the eartufts that actually did not contribute at all to hearing and resembled horns bending backwards from the _kafit_ bird's head. My bladed, orange tail split in half and moved forward, flattening into the pair of wings at the very back of the _kafit_ bird. My hindlegs' hooves divided into three parts, formed vicious talons, and my forelegs progressed higher, feathering, flattening. My insides twisted and contorted to fit the _kafit_ bird's carnivorous diet.

And then I was it. I spread my half-dozen wings and leaped into the air – and here was where the tufted pinnae came into usefulness, for all that they did contribute to hearing; for they were extremely sensitive, and with them I could gain a greater sense of the wind than I could simply feeling it through my body. I caught a cool wind easily, soaring head-on, allowing it to lift me and shoot me forward in a burst of speed. There were no thermals – rising warm air that when employed correctly could propel me hundreds feet higher in a matter of seconds – but that was fine; the _kafit_ bird was a mighty flier, the fore and hind wings flapping in unison while the middle set beat the opposite. The _kafit_ bird never lost speed, and its circulatory system was so complex and efficient that it did not easily grow tired.

I soared high into the sky, eyes trained on the stars, and when I reached the climax of my wanted altitude I looked down at the brightly lit Andalite scoops below. A reflection of the night sky. My acute _kafit_ bird vision spotted out my own scoop, though it was unlit, and I flew towards it.

I lived alone – I had moved out of my family scoop not long ago in favor of a solitary life. In addition, I was growing. I was no longer a young Andalite female…but not adult, either. At least, I hoped I wasn't. "Adult" would be the zenith of my life, when I would make something of myself…and from there, everything would go downhill. My reputation would be laid down permanently, with no chance of change. What would I be? Would I still be only the Andalite _decol_?

And what with Aximili? I remembered him well from when I still attended the Academy – I did not know him well, and did not pay attention to him: I was shy, and anyway he was older than I. And anyway, that was such a long time ago…and if he were in some trouble, I was certainly in no position to help him.

Suddenly, I realized where I was, and shrieked indignantly with the _kafit_ bird's ear-splitting screech. I had overshot my scoop! Grumbling, I halted motion of my right-side wings and turned left, back to my scoop. How could I be so irresponsible? Soon, my mother would probably be checking on me…she was still looking after my health, though I was no longer her little child…

I stopped again, nearly hovering in midair. I had passed again! In fact, as I surveyed what was below, I realized that there was no logical explanation why I would be here at _all_. This was miles and miles away from my scoop, near the home of the great Captain-Prince Asculan-Semitur-Langor! What –

And then, out of nowhere, another _kafit_ bird, this one a rust-red. I stared in disbelief. The _kafit_ bird was diurnal – what would a true one be doing out at the night? But even as I watched, the other _kafit_ bird dove down to the scoop of Captain-Prince Asculan, tail-plumes waving. For some subconscious reason of my own, I dove after it.

The red _kafit_ bird landed on the center of the roof of Captain-Prince Asculan's roof and walked awkwardly towards the window. I followed, landing less neatly, and walking even more clumsily despite the fact that I had done this morph perhaps hundreds of times. But I could clearly hear the un-muted thought-speak conversation being held inside.

Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill has now been missing for quite a long time, an unknown voice said. We know that he was taken prisoner in _Kelbrid_ territory, and his…rescue party…has not yet returned as of now. Someone should make sure he is safe.

But into _Kelbrid_ territory? an authoritative voice I knew as Captain-Prince Asculan-Semitur-Langor said. Do you realize what going there would do? It was trigger a Kelbrid-Andalite war! I don't know about you, Asculan-Semitur-Langor, but we've just finished with the Yeerk war and I don't –

But don't you realize?! the unknown Andalite nearly roared. The war could have _already_ been triggered! Prince Aximili is being in _Kelbrid_ territory against his will! Are we not going to release him because we don't want to 'antagonize' the _Kelbrid_? Prince Aximili is the savior of the Yeerk war! He is as legendary as his brother! He is the _idol_ of many _arisths_! What example are you setting?

If you _wish_, War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, you may go and save Aximili yourself, Asculan said icily. But how you will do so without an Andalite ship to transport you and no crew…

My mind ignited with shock and excitement and fear. War-Prince Alloran?!

But…what was this of Aximili being in _Kelbrid_ territory? And why was Asculan opposing a rescue?

__

You know why, the dry, logical voice in my mind said. The voice that I hardly cared to listen to. _If the other "rescue team" that was sent to help him still hasn't come back, then that must mean they have been captured. And of course they cannot respond – any contact with the Andalite home world in _Kelbrid_ territory would trigger war for _good.

I glanced thoughtfully at the red _kafit_ bird that had led me here, who looked as if he (she?) was listening intently to the conversation as well. But of course, that was just a ruse – _kafit_ birds couldn't understand something as complicated as Andalite logic.

There was another exchange of arguments between Alloran and Asculan, and finally Alloran left the scoop, having lost the argument. I felt bad for that, but I knew that if Aximili were alive, he would not have wanted anyone to come after him anyway. Not if it would bring another age of bloodshed and fighting.

Still, I felt indebted to him to help…somehow. I think if I could help, then I would.

And then – a brilliant, loud thought-speech voice in my head!

****

You would help?asked a voice in my mind. The night landscape, Asculan's scoop, the sky – they had disappeared in favor of…of a realm of swirling colors, purple-blue-red-magenta. And as soon as I heard that voice, I knew who had brought me here. But I couldn't believe.

Ellimist? I said in a strangely tiny voice that trembled and echoed in the air like mist.

Yes, Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill.

I saw him then, appearing from the twirling colors – a semitransparent old Andalite, dull hooves and wrinkled stalk eyes, a certain hunch to his posture. The maelstrom of colors dissipated – no, darkened. Darkened into pure blackness. I was back in my original form, an Andalite…but there was an oddness to it. I could see ghosts of each of my acquired morphs whenever I moved. When my arm slid forward, it was _my_ arm – but with a semi-opaque coating of _kafit_-bird wings, cat fur, and a myriad other animals.

What do you want with me? I demanded angrily, looking at the feeble Andalite trotting towards me. He stopped, smiled warmly with his eyes. I didn't buy the kindness he seemed to radiate. I had heard stories of him and his manipulative ways.

****

You would help? He asked again, all four eyes focused on me. I "frowned," looked at him with three of my eyes while I kept one stalk eye averted, looking at the endlessness around me. The Ellimist would not be diverted from his wanted topic.

Yes, I replied truthfully.

****

Are you certain?

Yes, I responded, this time purposely adding a little annoyance in my voice. What do you want with me?

The Ellimist seemed to chuckle. **I don't want anything with you. I want to help you. If you could…would help?**

I considered again. Yes, yes I would. But there was a tone in the Ellimist's voice that I didn't like.

I told you before that I would, I replied again, irritated. But if you would give me that chance, you would want something in return. What is it?

****

So blunt, _Decol_ Ankulei, the Ellimist laughed.

I don't trust you, I told him truthfully. The Ellimist smiled, and as if he had spoken with that action alone, I understood. You…you want me to do something, don't you? If you send me to help Aximili, you'll want me to do…some sort of sub-journey as well!

****

Perhaps what I _want_ you to do for me is to help Prince Aximili, the Ellimist said. **And if that were the case…then would you do it?**

I was confused. I'll admit that. But all the same…

Yes, I agreed. Yes, I –

Falling! Giving an unholy squawk, I flapped my two upper sets of wings and quickly pushed myself back onto the roof of the scoop.

Onto the roof of…_my_ scoop.

And in my mind, I had memories that I knew I should not have had – clear memories of me witnessing a conversation in which I learned that the veteran Captain-Prince Cosolran-Semitur-Juran, his wife, and his children were to visit Earth and acquire human morphs for the sheer pleasure of a sense called "taste." I knew exactly when and where and how they were to get there, and I had to perfect morph available for sneaking onto the ship and going with them.

Somehow, some way, I would help Aximili…even if it was going to break Andalite law.


	3. Trip Troubles l Ankulei

Notes:

--…sorry it's so short. O.o;;

**The Hybrid Project**

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Chapter 3

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill

By Aura Kage

I don't know why, but ever since I had first morphed the _kafit_ bird, I had started to favor carnivorous morphs rather than herbivore ones. I, being an Andalite, was a herbivore, of course – but I had a weapon. Predator creatures were deadly. Some herbivores were, of course, armed to protect themselves from those who would antagonize them…but there was a sense of power, a sense of confidence in predatory creatures.

So that was why I was perched in the shade of veteran Captain-Prince Cosolran-Semitur-Juran's remaining eyestalk. I was a _surujuli_, an insect that could survive both in and out of water, from the planet Leera – a somewhat tiny bug, not small enough to be invisible but not large enough to be seen. _Surujuli_ fed on other insects, poking an amazingly long sort of proboscis into its prey and injecting it with an acidic chemical that would instantly turn a its innards to mush, thus making it edible to the toothless _surujuli._

The venomous spittle, however, was not strong enough to turn Captain-Prince Cosolran's insides to mush.

My eyes, large green oculars enameled with a thin retractable film to repel water, gazed around the brightly-lit room. I had a vague sense of color, but it was obvious that this predator hunted by movement as the cat did. I flexed my thin, but strong, wings, trying to shake off the _surujuli's_ restlessness. It greatly disliked staying in one place – though it was a hunter, it was also preyed upon by a multitude other creatures.

I fought to quell the _surujuli's_ mind, and twitched my foremost two grasping blade-like legs hesitantly. My other legs were thicker, stronger – for swimming. A serpentine tail the size of my body curled around my hind six legs, and I tried to cower down into Captain-Prince Cosolran's fur. Tried to be unnoticed. The mind of the _surujuli_ agreed with me, and together we huddled in the protection of the blue fur.

In my mind, a perfect sense of time took away another Andalite minute. Ninety-five left until I had to demorph, unless I wished to stay a _surujuli_ for the rest of my life.

~

Every hundred counts of time, I departed the veteran Captain-Prince and flew in total exposure to several private places – a closet or two, a waste elimination chamber, the cargo hold. The ship was not large and did not maintain the supreme air that a Dome Ship or fighter would have, so at first finding a place to demorph safely was difficult; but eventually I came to notice and use several marks as my guides.

How far away was Earth from the Andalite home world? I didn't know. I didn't like figures very much, which was possibly another component that led to my decision to quit the Academy. Morphing was so much easier, and I enjoyed it as well.

I stretched my wings and flapped them, immediately departing the ground. I few around the Andalite ship several times, enjoying the hyperactive body of the _surujuli_.

And then the logical part of my mind intervened into my play again. Why was I consenting to hiding on the veteran and his family? I could hide perfectly well in any other section of the ship!

So thinking, I flew off, back to the cargo hold. It was the largest of the private rooms that I had encountered, quite big enough to accommodate an Andalite. Not that I was planning to revert to my original form and stay there for the rest of the trip – that was too risky. But there was lots of room to fly around in the cargo hold, and the _surujuli_ liked flying.

ZOOM! Up, up, up, towards the ceiling!

ZOOM! Down, down to the ground, the minuscule twisting fibers on the floor of the ship that kept Andalites with friction high all around me, a forest of skeletal lavender-navy-blue-white! Maneuvering was easy with four wings, the front to accustomed to the land while the back two flapped up and down, next to each other on my abdomen, as opposed to one on each of my sides. This was for easy propulsion through the water. I loved morphing.

ZOOM! Slipping through the oh-so-small crack between the door of the cargo hold and the floor! One of my back wings, in its "flapping upwards" stage, caught slightly but was jarred out in the next moment.

ZOOOOMM! In, up, down, sideways, FALLING! Up again, arching into the sky, then twisting in a spectacular dive bomb, falling towards the ground, lifting at the last minute! My tail swept around, a rudder of sorts, and I turned back up, high, high, high, higher –

KRACK!

Ahhhh! I cried as my right flying-wing was suddenly disabled. For a moment, I thought that it was a shredder, and I was caught by the incredulous image of an Andalite firing shredders at a tiny insect.

KRACK!

I prevented myself from crying out again but screamed privately as my right blade-leg was KRACK'ed off. I tried frantically to stay aloft with my one working wing, not trusting myself to survive the fall. What –

Up above! A small hairy monster, long flexible legs just visible through its array of messy long fur. An insect! I _knew_ that insect! The _ofrey_, an Andalite bug, whose hair accumulated static as it scuffled along. He used that static to stun his prey, then used one of his long-range legs to take them up.

As soon as I had the image of myself being taken by the _ofrey_, one of the retractile claws reached forward.

AHHHH!

The bladed leg right through me! Piercing straight through my abdomen! Dragging me back to the _ofrey_'s waiting jaw, pincers clicking, venom-stinger ready. He held me helpless, dangling, impaled and quickly losing life.

Ironic that instead of dying by Bug Fighter, I was dying by bug. Ironic. Stupid.

Ellimist, help me…! I shouted angrily, trembling, trying to ignore the immense pain and panicky feelings of the _surujuli_, its fear at being eaten. But I knew it was in vain – this was _my_ problem that _I_ had gotten into _myself_. I knew when to admit my mistakes. But that didn't stop me from being frantic myself. HELP ME!

I felt myself being injected with the venom that would close my eyes forever. I felt fear. I felt anguish. I felt defeat. I felt…relieved. No more dealing with life. No more hybrid-morphing. No more broken dreams and hopes and…yes, this was good. I would go forever.

__

No! No, don't give in! NO!

What was that voice? Who was that? I don't know…I don't care…

NO!

I caught hold of my awareness again, but felt it slipping away. I had to think! What could I do? How could I save myself? How –

Oh. Of course.

I looked straight at the _ofrey_ as if to kill him with my eyes…and acquired him. His many eyes drooped, half-closing, and I powered my remaining wings back, un-stabbing myself, though some parts of me stayed behind.

__

Demorph! Demorph! Demorph!

Falling!

__

Demorph! Demorph!

Legs sucking into my sides! The hole in my middle filling with Andalite anatomy. For a moment, I saw my three hearts beating, and felt sick.

__

Demorph!

Antennae forming into stalk eyes! Main eyes turning almond-shaped, becoming clearer! Legs and arms and hands and hooves coming from my now-blue body, wings withdrawing into my back. It was finished. I was…

An extremely tiny Andalite. Smiling slightly, hysterics from near-death still staying with me, I enlarged into my normal size and height.

__

Now I was an Andalite in the cargo hold. Painfully aware of the fact that my stomach had been nothing just a few seconds ago.

I looked up at the _ofrey_, who was scurrying away to a hideout, afraid of his morphing prey. So tiny now. So helpless to me. I could squash him easily with a hoof, or cut him in half with my tail.

Yet, he had nearly killed me.

Trying not to think about the recent event, I focused on my new morph. No more wings for _this_ trip.


	4. On Earth l Ankulei

Notes:

--Yay! Longer. :P

--Andalite fun…whee.

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 4

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill

By Aura Kage

Earth loomed, a giant sphere colored blue and green – but mostly blue. Clouds swirled around in its atmosphere, and I could see a hint of one moon on the other side of the planet, silvery-pale-white.

The blue is water, veteran Captain-Prince Cosolran said, touching down on an informational pad on the ship, which was rapidly displaying the collected data of Earth. Most of the planet is water…as well as humans.

Most of the humans are water? one of his Andalite children said confusedly. Both of them were far younger than I was, yet Cosolran was a veteran. Before this time, I had thought that the reason for his early retirement was an event that had happened during his career that had forced him out of the military, but I hadn't been sure. Many things are kept secret from the Andalite public.

But in _ofrey_ morph, I had accidentally overheard he and his wife thought-speaking aloud. It turned out that the Captain-Prince actually had _Soola's _disease…and they wanted to enjoy life while he was still in it.

It was saddening for me to learn that. It was even more saddening for me to learn through eavesdropping. But that was life.

Most of what humans are _composed_ of is water, his mother corrected, smiling down at him and patting his head. The young Andalite blinked and looked back down at the planet with his main eyes, delicate hands pressed against the glass.

So then they are not solid? the other inquired for him, looking up at his father.

They are solid, Cosolran said, fingers tapping against the pad and pulling up the hologram of a human. The awkward, pitiful human, tail-less and weapon-less, only two eyes in front of their heads, and with hardly any hair to cover their body against the cold. I felt sorry for them all, only able to walk on two legs. Obviously, evolution had not been kind to them.

But then again, evolution was adapting to your surroundings to allow you survival, not necessarily turning into something that would be practical.

The young Andalite laughed. They don't have a tail! How can that be? They must be just struggling to walk upright all the time! How awful!

His parents laughed, and Cosolran replied. Humans have very good balance…or so they say. But we'll find out soon enough!

It was then that I realized my first problem – I had to acquire a human! Andalites of much respect were allowed to visit Earth, and surely volunteer humans are provided for their acquiring. I would have to sneak out of the ship as soon as it touched down on the ground and see if I could find a human to acquire.

Earth grew closer, enlarging until its image no longer was able to fit into the large frame of the mirror. Cosolran turned away, no doubt to the pilot's quarters – the ship had probably been in auto-pilot this whole time, as I hadn't seen anyone but this Andalite family on board.

I skittered back to the cargo hold quickly, feeling static build in my lengthy hair, just waiting for me to direct it. I had to demorph and morph quickly into something that could escape without notice, but also something able to defend itself. Who knew what kind of malicious creatures Earth had in store?

Quickly! The ship would land any minute, and when it did, then the cargo would be unloaded! My mind ran through the different DNA I had swimming in my blood, and in the end I chose to double-morph…both a _surujuli_ and an _ofrey_. The _ofrey_ was new, and I didn't know how he would react to the _surujuli_, but out of my only bug-morphs I felt I would feel the safest in those.

I demorphed, just to restart my time, and then morphed back into the _surujuli_, feeling exhausted from the energy it took to do so. It would be worse when I morphed again and fought down the nausea, but even more horrible than that if I was caught. Even now, I knew that Fradulan would be going frantic, wondering where his _decol_ was.

I tried to hold the _surujuli_'s size as I called up the appearance of the _ofrey_ in my mind. Hair grew out in all directions, large spines erupting from my slick amphibian hide. I held on to my wings, begging they would hold me, and rid myself of the blade-forelegs in hopes that I would lose weight. My tail slurped back into my body, another effort to stay light, and my swimming-legs thinned into the retractile legs. I let the _ofrey_ pinchers emerge from my face, but stopped the stun-stinger in favor of the acidic proboscis. My eyes grew dark, to where I had no sense of color at all – everything was in grays.

I was reminded of the cat, and cursed myself for my stupidity. Of course! I had an Earth morph! Why didn't I use it?

__

Ankulei…you are an idiot.

But I had morphed just in time. I felt the ground vibrate, and my wings powered up and lifted me up quite easily. They even beat against my fur, creating a slight static.

__

Try and attack me now, Earth creatures, I thought to myself with a smile.

The door to the cargo bay opened, and I flew out, buzzing past the humans that had opened it to unload.

"Oh my freaking god! What was that?!"

"What? What was what?"

"Didn't you see that…that _thing_?"

"Uh…no…"

"I can't believe you didn't see it! It was _huge_! It was, like, a huge bug with green eyes and all this hair!"

"Man, you've had too much caffeine. From now on, you're on decaf."

~

I flew on and on until I reached a small outcropping of forest, surveying Earth. It was largely green everywhere, with a labyrinth of flat gray stone laid out on the ground, which transport vehicles used to cross back and forth, spewing a large amount of polluted air. Again, I pitied the poor humans and their destructive creations. Did they move so slowly that they had to sacrifice clean air for speed?

I demorphed in the forest and ate the grass thoughtfully, resting before I morphed again. The grass was coarse and more difficult to crush, but it provided me with nutrients, which was the important thing. I looked in vain for water, and decided that I would get water later instead.

I emerged from the forest with my clever whiskered visage and bright eyes, and walked around aimlessly, enjoying the sheer confidence and power of the cat. It did fear, yes. But there were so many _other_ things to do. Sniff some grass. Scratch a tree. Examine with a strange, overwhelming interest in the flopping of a human's artificial hoof that was trailing something sinuous. I resisted the urge to chase after it, and focused on the next event at hand.

And realized, crestfallen, that there _was_ no next event. Again, my failure to see ahead had taken advantage of me.

And I realized, stunned for a moment, that if I didn't know what to do, then I might be trapped on Earth forever. I _could_ choose to show myself, of course, but that would prove that I had gone back against orders – that I had actually _left_ the Andalite home world. My parents, Fradulan – they would be worrying. If I went back without accomplishing anything…

I pushed my mind away from the thought and tried to concentrate on what I needed to do. The cat's mind lifted a paw, and I began licking it, cleaning it from the dirt that had been trapped between my pawpads.

So Aximili was gone, into _Kelbrid_ territory. The rescue party was gone as well. What I needed was a spacecraft able to travel in Z-space…

__

Oh, yes_, Ankulei_, the logical voice in my mind sneered. _That will be _easy,_ I'm sure. All you need to do is acquire a Z-space vessel, that's all! You should have thought this through more thoroughly before you agreed to the Ellimist, fool!_

…that could come later, however. What I needed _now_ was a human morph.

__

And that will be easy as well, I suppose? Are you just going to walk up to a human and tell them that you are an Andalite, and then ask them politely if you can acquire their DNA?

Well, it was an idea.

I crossed the street, checking to make sure I was not going to be crushed by the wheels of a transport vehicle like the poor creatures I had seen earlier by the road, and sat down on the smaller gray path that was evidently for pedestrians. And waited for a human to come by.

Luckily enough, I didn't have to wait long. A human couple walked right past me, and though one gave me an uneasy glance, they paid no attention to me.

"Wrooooaaawr!" I cried, trying to speak, then cursing myself for even trying. I _knew_ that cats couldn't speak!

The humans, however, turned and looked at me, the one that had glanced at me earlier looking even more apprehensive.

Excuse me! I said instead, standing and walking towards them. I am sorry for bothering you.

"Uh…was that cat just talking?" the female said hesitantly. The translator chip in my head, placed there by Fradulan so that I would be able to understand the speech of others on one of our occasional trips to a different planet for a new morph, was quickly able to make sense of what they were saying. Humans communicated by using their mouthparts.

"It must be someone in morph," the other one said thoughtfully. He kneeled down by me and patted my head. "Aren't you?"

Yes! I said excitedly. Yes, I am!

"See," the male said pointedly, looking back at his partner, who was still hanging back. "I told you." He turned back to me and removed his hand from my head. "So, who are you? Cassie? Or are you one of those military Animorphs?"

Cassie? I echoed. I am not Cassie. I am an Andalite in morph, and I just recently arrived here.

Both humans looked around suddenly, scanning the skies. For my ship?

I was going to politely ask you if I could acquire your DNA so that I can obtain a human morph, I continued. May I?

"Uh…sure," the male said, shrugging and looking back at the female. "But you'll have to demorph first – Lisa's allergic to cats."

Of course. I demorphed, trying to make a show of it, so as not to scare the humans and to impress them as well. They didn't seem fearful of me, which was a pleasant surprise – certainly if I had been approached by a _kafit_ bird that was actually another alien in morph, then I would be surprised and suspicious. But these humans acted as if they hadn't even been fazed by my sudden arrival. Their eyes widened as they saw me morph, the final transition being my two stalk eyes.

I lifted a hand to touch them, and they seemed to recoil from it. Their eyes ran over my deadly tail blade, and I moved it further into their view to assure them that I wasn't going to try a sneak attack.

Do not worry, I assured. You will only be momentarily drowsy as I acquire your DNA.

"Yeah, I know," the male said. "I've seen all the movies."

Movies? I echoed, touching his forehead with my finger. His mouth opened to speak back, but his eyes rolled around a bit as I acquired his DNA. I turned to the female, who still looked fearful of me, trying to keep concentration so I could meld their DNA together.

If you do not wish to give me your DNA, then you do not have to, I said pointedly. She shook her head and stepped forward.

"No, no…it's alright. I've…just never met an Andalite before," she said, smiling with her mouth and showing bright teeth, holding out her hand palm facing me. I pressed my hand against hers, and her eyes drooped as I acquired.

Thank you, I informed them just as the male was coming from his stupor. I appreciate the use of your DNA, and I will not abuse it.

It was a speech that I had said maybe hundreds of times before to other sentient species that I had acquired on different planets.

I began to morph into the form that their intertwined DNA had granted me. They watched wide-eyed, aware now, as parts of them became visible on me. My torso changed first; my blue fur lengthened and fell down to my shoulders, ears becoming smaller, the vision of my stalk eyes growing dark as they shriveled and sucked into my skull. I felt uneasy by the ability not to see in all directions, but the human neck was very flexible. The long hair brightened into a bright gold, and I felt more of me changing –

"Oh my god," the female said, shocked, quickly taking off her "jacket" – a type of artificial skin that I had learned about from Fradulan himself, to keep humans warm. She shoved it over my head, and for some reason the male started making strange loud stuttering noises.

"Waaat izz dis?" I asked, using the human jaws and tongue to communicate with them. It was difficult at first, but I quickly made sense of it. "Dis? This? Thuh. Thuh. Why duh-did you place this artificial skin on me? Mah…me."

"Stop morphing!" the female commanded fiercely. Shocked and surprised and a little angry, I complied, my Andalite body still un-morphed but my chest and shoulders and head now human.

"What is the problem? Puh. Raw. Buh-lem?" I asked, liking the sensation of words in my mouth.

"You _so_ do not want to morph all the way," the female informed me while the male continued to make his hysteric noises. She looked around, saw the forest across the vehicle transport path, and took my hand. "Let's go over there."

She pulled at my hand with amazing strength, and I felt that my arms had been jarred from their positions on my body. Humans were so strong! And it didn't seem as if they had a problem walking at all – even walking quickly, as we did across the pathway. The male followed, snorting, and the female led be deep into the center of the forest.

"Okay, finish morphing here," she whispered, turning and narrowing her eyes at the male. "George, stop laughing! It isn't funny!"

"What is the puh-raw-buh-lem?" I repeated. "Why did you buh-ring me into a forest to continue my morph? Ph?"

"Well…" the female said uneasily, and the male's "laughing" started up anew. The female exhaled in exasperation. "Well, you weren't morphing clothing."

"Clothing? Kuh-loh-thing?" I echoed. "Is that the name for this-suh artificial skin-nuh?"

"Yeah, and you need it," the female said, smiling slightly and looking as if she would start laughing herself.

"But why-uh? It is not cold. I do not require extra skin," I informed her, beginning to take the jacket off.

"No!" she shouted, putting her hand on my arm to prevent me from doing removing the jacket. "No! Don't! Just…trust me on this. Please."

"But it is yours. Suh," I insisted. "You have given me your DNA. I do not wish to take your skin as well."

"It's…it's the law, all right?" she said, looking panicky. "Humans need to wear clo – artificial skin wherever they go."

"Why-uh?" I laughed. "That must be so uncomfortable! A-buhl. Uhn-com-for-tah –"

"It covers up…uh…parts of us that aren't supposed to be shown in public," she said hastily. "Now, wait here. You need some pants, so me and George will go get some for you. _Please_ stay here and wait for us to come back."

"May I continue morphing now?" I asked irritably. "Ow?"

"Uh…yeah," the female said, shoving the male away from the forest. "Just make sure no one sees you."

I watched them go and finished morphing. Humans…so strange.

~

The one sun that Earth orbited was beginning to set. I had successfully acquired a human morph and human items of clothing. The latter had been totally ripped and torn when I had demorphed, but when I morphed back into the human I kept a tight clothe-item called a "leotard" that the female and male humans had thoughtfully given me. They informed me that I would only be able to morph skin-tight pieces of artificial skin before they left. Though they possessed no power to morph, evidently "movies" supplied them with information about morphing.

Now I had to find a Z-space vehicle.

__

Yes, Ankulei, I'm sure the next human technology market will have them in supply.

Or perhaps I should stay for a while and educate myself on humans…

__

Don't stall, fool! Any minute now Aximili could be getting into trouble! Coward!

I went over the facts again, walking on the "sidewalk" (as I learned it was called). Aximili went into space, into _Kelbrid_ territory. So did a rescue party. Neither has returned. I wanted to help, somehow, which would require the possession of a Z-space ship. But even if I obtained one, I certainly couldn't go alone! That would be worse! I could be caught and sent home (if I wasn't killed first), and wherever I went Andalites would turn and point and stare and say –

"Hey, girl, put on something decent, will you?" a voice said behind me. I quickly turned and saw an adult human male standing before me, scowling down. Perhaps I had accidentally trod upon the area of his scoop.

"I am sorry. Ree," I apologized. "I did not know that this was the area of your scoop. Scuh-oo-puh."

"Scoop?" the human echoed. His scowl disappearance. "Hell, no! You must be an Andalite."

"How did you know?" I asked, surprised. He laughed.

"The movies," he said, grinning.

Again with the movies!

"Ah, yes," I said, nodding – a human gesture of acceptance or compliance. "I see. Yes, movies are very informative. In-for-mah-tiv-ah."

He laughed. "Yep, you're an Andalite alright. And obviously lost, too. The mall's down that way." He pointed back towards the direction of a very tall building. He patted my back and laughed again, heartily. Humans, apparently, found many things funny. "There're some other Andalites there, too. Go get yourself a cinnamon bun and have fun."

He walked away and I stared after him.

Well, it was a start. Perhaps this "cinnamon bun" would be the answer to my problems.


	5. Troubles Galore l Cassie

Notes:

--Whoo…just my little rant; I didn't really think that the Hork-Bajir would do well in Yosemite. O.o;;

  


**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 5

Cassie

By Aura Kage

I sighed and flopped down on the bed belly-first, my head burying into the darkness of my over-fluffy pillow. For a moment I just laid there and allowed my thoughts wander in incoherent circles, worrying, wondering, worrying, whining, and worrying. And more worrying.

Where was Jake? Where was Marco? Where were Tobias and Ax? I mean, okay…so Jake had said that I could stay behind. I admit that maybe I thought that was the right thing to do. That what I was doing right now had been what I was _born_ to do.

No, wait, scratch that. That what I _had_ been doing back _then_ had been what I had been born to do. You know…taking care of the Hork-Bajir. Making sure that I played the part of the President's Assistant to Resident Aliens or whatever.

Ha! What a joke. What the President had _meant_ by assigning my that long name was that he wouldn't take any part in anything that happened to any aliens, and that all responsibility towards them fell on _me_. Me, Cassie the Animorph. Tree-hugger, let-dogs-vote, save-the-slugs Cassie the Animorph.

Cassie the Animorph who took care of all alien issues all over the country, whether they were Anti-Alien or protests demanding an advancement in technology to the magnitude that the Andalites and Yeerks had them. Nevermind the fact that I have _enough_ to deal with – I also get to worry about Jake and the others on the mission. Mostly Jake. Wishing I could have helped and knowing that I couldn't.

Frankly, I was sick of it all. But I wasn't about to give it up. I would be letting down Toby and the Hork-Bajir…and they needed so much help. They were being over-harassed by vandalizing tourists that decided to sneak in after visiting hours and lay waste to their beloved trees, and there had been one Anti-Hork-Bajir crime where a murdered body lay blade-less and beak-less on the ground, mangled and ridden with bullet holes…

The image of the corpse recalled in my mind made my stomach heave with disgust, though I had seen worse in the war against the Yeerks. (Had it really been that long ago? The memories were still so vivid…). I stood up quickly, holding my mouth, and ran to the bathroom.

Just as I was throwing water on my face and washing away the rancid taste in my mouth, I heard the phone in my room ring. I groaned and stood up, walking, disoriented, towards the phone. I let it ring a few more times while I regained my composure and inhaled deeply, then picked it up, knowing with absolute certainty who it was.

"Hey, Cass," said the deep voice on the other end of the phone, only slightly messed up by the lines.

"Hello, Ronnie," I replied wearily, laying my head down on the pillow and closing my eyes.

"You sound tired," he said, sounding concerned. "Anything the matter? You want to talk about it?"

"No…it's just…I'm just tired," I replied, trying to sound confident though I knew that my voice was wavering. I could almost see a face that smiled sadly at me from the other end of the phone…but it wasn't Ronnie's face that smiled. It was Jake's. I bit my lip and suppressed another groan at the exasperation of my renewed anxiety.

"Oh," he said sorrowfully. "So then I guess you won't be able to…"

Oh, no! I had made plans to meet him at Marie Calendars! I sat straight up in the bed, nearly hitting my forehead on the head of the bed.

"Oh, Ronnie…" I started, and he cut me off with a wordless sound.

"It's alright," he said hastily. Too hastily. "I know you have commitments. I can't ask anymore of you than the Hork-Bajir can."

"No, it's not that, it's just –"

"No, really, Cass. It's fine," Ronnie said at the other end of the line. In my mind I made up the image of him slumped depressed-ly against the couch in his room, playing unenthusiastically at the beads that hung from his exotic lamp. "I know you have your job. I know you can't put that aside for me."

There was something wrong about his voice…it was insulting, sad, depressed, and angry at the same time. Ronnie wasn't one of those guys that just went and blew everything at you when he was upset – he kind of said it in a sad sort of way, as if he had been betrayed, or as if his best friend hadn't shown up for the most important event of his life.

But he _knew_ what I had to put through – he worked with the Hork-Bajir too, afterall! But not with anything else…he didn't know the extend of Anti-Andalite and the hatred of some of the groups against aliens. Sometimes I felt as if another civil war was just about to brew up. "Alienism" was something hated, but common. Like racism…except both more visible and less visible. There weren't, afterall, shops that hung "No Alien Need Apply" in their windows.

"Ronnie, no, I didn't –"

"Really, it's alright. Bye, Cass."

"Bye," I said bleakly into the phone, though I don't think he heard me, as the phone clicked off as soon as I said it. I groaned again and slammed the stupid phone into itself, shutting it. It was uncharacteristic of me to be so angry but…the day just hadn't agreed with me.

I wondered if Ronnie's, "Bye, Cass" had been the goodbye. I mean, THE goodbye. As in, "Bye, Cass, you don't have enough time to include me into your agenda, and I frankly can't stand that."

One part of me hoped that wasn't it. I really didn't have anyone to talk to except for the Hork-Bajir and occasional Andalite, and they really couldn't communicate on "my" level…except maybe Toby, but she was always interested in the welfare of her people, and just didn't understand the importance of "small talk."

But then, the other part of me hoped that that _was_ it. I knew, deep down, that I still loved Jake, no matter how far we had grown apart during the years. I was just waiting for him to…return.

I heard a muffled reverberation against my pillow and sighed, turning around and unclipping the cell phone.

"'Lo, this is Cassie," I said automatically, making a point of my tiredness and hoping whoever the caller was would just leave me alone.

"Cassie," said a familiar voice on the other end of the phone, hushed, frantic, angry, and confused. "Cassie."

I knew that voice immediately.

"Toby?!" I cried, sitting straight up in bed again? "Toby, what's wrong? Is everything alright? And how are you able to use the phone?"

"Cas – sie," Toby began again, her voice breaking with what I was sure was Hork-Bajir sadness. I could almost see her – wherever she was – hunched over, holding the phone close as if it were a treasured item, her last possession in the world. "Cassie…Ket Halpak, my mother, is dead."

The six words said so bluntly, with such pure sadness, struck me like a blade through my heart. I listened, hardly breathing, staring and not seeing as Toby related to me the events of five-minutes-ago – how she had been spotted after-hours by Alienists wielding machine guns. How she had run, trying to lose them and lead them away from the rest of the Hork-Bajir. How she knew somehow that it was too late for her, but wanting her people to live on. And how Ket Halpak had suddenly come down from the skies, nailing an Alienist with one of her talons, instantly killing him. How a hopeless battle had then emerged, ending with Ket falling, her blades taken. And how Toby could only watch, watch as her mother was murdered and parts of her body were taken away as trophies, as she had told her not to help.

I felt sick inside. Both emotionally and physically, and felt Toby's helplessness as if it were my own, as if it I myself had witnessed my mother being murdered. It was…inhumane. I felt rage bubble up inside, like some vicious demon being awakened, and my hands trembled.

Toby's _mother_. Sentient beings being harassed, killed, murdered as if they were just…just animals…not that animals were allowed that kind of treatment either. It was sickening. Gross. Hork-Bajir were capable of thinking, of feeling…why couldn't some people just accept them? This was just like…like racism.

My vision was starting to blur; I covered up the receiver with my hands and sniffed deeply, wiping away my tears.

"I'll…I'll be right there, Toby," I said, trying to sound comforting. She muttered wordless acceptance and hung up, and I waited until the phone began beeping for me to hang up before I actually turned it off.

Stupid. It was all so stupid. So…saddening. Insane. Why were these people doing this?

I looked outside, where the moon was already starting to fall down from its zenith in the sky, and glanced at the red-glowing digital clock by the hotel bed. Two in the morning. I hadn't gotten any rest at all.

But Toby needed this. I opened the window.

I stood up and voided myself of loose clothing, then inhaled deeply and spread my arms ceremoniously, focusing on the image of an owl. A distant itching rippled throughout my whole body instantly, and the myriad tattoo-like images of feathers emerged onto my skin, three-dimensional. That untouchable section of my mind that controlled my morphing made my wings grow first, contour feathers large and glossy and soft, adapted to silent flight. My fingers and heavy-boned arms thinned and emptied, transforming into hollow wing bones.

My face came next; my eyes widened, and the minuscule details of the night as viewed through my window visible in awesome clarity. My lips hardened and pointed, then grew outward into a sharp, flesh-rending beak. My now plumed stomach shrank, insides contorting, and my legs thinned into scaled stilts ending in talons.

I was an owl with legs five times as long as my body.

Shrinking! Falling! The world blew past as my size dimmed down, and then the morph was completed.

I opened my powerful, quiet wings and soared into the night.

~

I spotted Toby easily. She was sitting in the ripped canopy of a tree, scanning the skies for me, though I knew that her night vision wasn't good enough to catch sight of me. I flew down to her, attempting to land on a branch that was conveniently (and possibly forcefully) stuck upwards and then bent in a ninety degree angle to provide me with an easy perch.

I shifted my talons and wings and eyed her with the fierce, all-seeing owl gaze.

Should I demorph? I asked. Toby looked down and around, surveying the intertwining branches that actually formed a sort of nest high up in the tree, then nodded.

"Yes. It is safe."

I flapped down onto the floor of the nest and focused on the image of myself, hoping that she was right. It was an awfully long drop if the branches weren't strong enough to accommodate my weight. The branches shifted with a crack as I grew to my full size and I tensed, expecting the worst, but from there the branches held firm and made no more complaints.

"Toby…" I started sadly, sitting down cross-legged on the ground, the branches pricking my bare legs with acute points of pain. "Toby, I'm sorry."

"Yes," Toby said in a strangely monotone voice. "I know." She looked down at the ground and ran her clawed fingers over leaves that were protruding from living branches nearby. "I want to bring her back to the valley and bury her there. It was the first home of the free Hork-Bajir, and she will be safe there."

Safe from having her grave desecrated by anyone who would take her bones and use them for some hideous relic of good luck and prosperity. Hork-Bajir parts for sale, everyone. One hundred dollars for the tibia, and one thousand for a blade. The skull's on lay-away, though, sorry.

I gave a much-pained sigh. "Toby…I don't know what to do anymore. Everything's just…I'm just carrying everything on my shoulders now. No one's helping me…and I really have no one here that I can really talk to."

I didn't know why I told her that. I guess I just needed to tell _someone_.

She looked up at me with her clever, avid eyes, tainted now with grief. "I am sorry for you as well, Cassie. You know you may speak with me if you wish."

"I know, Toby, I know."

"Or with Tobias," she continued, scanning the skies again as if to see his rusty tail just overhead. "Though I haven't seen him at all lately. I wonder if he found a new territory."

I couldn't tell Toby about the mission. I couldn't.

"Probably," I lied, shrugging. "Maybe there weren't enough mice in the meadow."

"Or maybe he was being threatened by something that kept bothering him," Toby suggested noncommittally, yet pointedly.

I was confused by the strange suggestion.

And then I understood.

"You don't want to live here anymore?" I said, stunned. Toby sighed – a human expression she picked up – and shook her head.

"This place is not safe anymore, Cassie," she said, avoiding my gaze and looking up and towards the stars, as if to locate her own home planet. "I don't want to have any more of my people murdered and used as…trophy animals." Her voice grew fierce with passion as she continued. "This place is good, but the valley was better. The valley was secluded – the valley was safe. This place…this place is a home, yes, but oftentimes I feel as if I am an animal in captivity, stared and gawked at by humans. Some humans, like you, Cassie – some humans care. But the others are fearful of us. They don't like us. They don't want us here – they want us away so that we can't hurt them. And in truth, I want _them_ to be away so they can't hurt _us._"

Innocent Hork-Bajir, herbivores, shot and killed…

Toby turned to me, her eyes blazing, and in her I saw the soul of Aldrea – the soul of her grandmother, showing through the gaze of her granddaughter.

"Please understand. Two is two too many gone."

I avoided her eyes as well and looked down from the tree canopy, down at the natural Yosemite landscape. A land leased to the Hork-Bajir for their home and protection, yet they were still harmed in it. Harmed in the most brutal way imaginable. If they left, I doubted that the president would be happy about it. Same with the tourists that had been on the waiting list for years just to see the Hork-Bajir flitting through the trees.

A poacher had died tonight, along with a Hork-Bajir trying to defend her daughter. The president wouldn't be very happy, and chances were that the public would side with the poacher if not just because of the Hork-Bajirs' primal looks.

Why couldn't people just understand?!

Toby was right. This _was_ a zoo of sorts. If this was supposed to be a "home," it wasn't a very good one.

"When do you plan to leave?" I asked. She smiled sadly at me, which for a Hork-Bajir was a slightly-opened beak.

"As soon as possible."

I nodded, accepting, and stood up, preparing to morph back to owl. Toby stood up and watched me morph, plumage rippling across my skin.

"Cassie…take it easy," she said after I finished my morph, clearly using a bit of human choice of words. "And thank you."

I nodded my owl head and spread my wings, again soaring off, surprised that I could fly with all the weight I bore on my shoulders.

~

I trusted to Toby that the Hork-Bajir would find their way safely towards the valley. At the moment, I really couldn't think of anything else to do, and I _really_ wasn't in the mood to volunteer to help them. I needed rest. I needed sleep. The world rushed past be unseen as I flew back to my hotel room, wings powering against the dead air.

I would need to explain this to the president when the Hork-Bajir left. I would need to apologize to all those heartbroken tourists who didn't get to see the infamous Hork-Bajir of Yosemite. I would need to get back to work in about three hours. But honestly, I didn't care.

Leave me alone, world. I save you from a race of parasitic slugs, and this is what you do to repay me?

I was tired. I was angry. I was frustrated, sad, depressed, and wallowing in the mud of responsibility and worry.

So you an probably imagine exactly how tolerable I felt when I saw some blonde girl about my age in a sort of alley, a space between McDonald's and Denny's. I mean, I don't even know why I saw her in the first place – but I guess maybe it was the blonde hair. The impossible welling of dim sadness that came with remembering Rachel.

That wasn't it, though. See, she was _cornered_ in that dead-end alley by a gang dressed in black, with a badge of coruscating and intertwining blue and green lines that I knew immediately to be Anti-Alien. They were all holding small pistols, and an SUV parked casually in front of the alleyway prevented anyone from seeing her.

There was also a dirty, discarded Krispy Kreme donuts box. The ultimate Andalite temptation, next to cinnamon buns and cigarette butts.

I knew that girl was an Andalite, and out of experience I also knew that those Alienists were going to do – either going to kill her right off, or make her become a _nothlit_, holding her at gunpoint until her two hours were up.

It was all out of hatred. All just because. And with my owl's keen ears, I could hear: "Please, let me demorph!"

It was all too much for tree-hugging pacifist Cassie the Animorph to take on a sleepless sad night like this. Without thinking at all, I swept my wings back, plummeting with my talons extended, just waiting to enclose on the face of the Alienist that seemed to be the leader.

Luckily enough, though, he was saved. Why?

Because, without any warning at all, the blonde girl sprouted amazingly HUGE dragonic wings with a speed that was almost shocking, each flying appendage twice the size of the parked SUV. And her body grew bigger…and bigger…and bigger…


	6. Anti Alienists l Ankulei

Notes:

--Finally some information on my actual little "Hybrid Project." O.o;; Sorry it took so long to finally show it, but…yeah. ._.;;

  


**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 6

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill

By Aura Kage

Humans, with all their awkwardness and strangeness and "humor," were truly beings to respect. Though their construction seemed flimsy, ready to fall at the first beam of Dracon fire (not that they were in any danger of Yeerks, of course), the "mall" was alive and seething with many humans walking in and out, having private conversations with themselves. There were several lazing about outside of the mall, however, and these seemed "dark" in an odd, unexplained way, sticking long white cylinders in their mouths and breathing smoke. In this I found no logical reason, but then, humans did not seem to be a very logical species.

But then I walked in.

The smells! The lights! The people! Everywhere, blazing neon tubes shaped into words – Mongolian Grill, Sbarro, McDonalds. Everywhere, tables and counters propped to accommodate humans in their strange activity called "sitting," which required one to bend the legs and rest the hindquarters down on a padded seat. Everywhere, people consuming brightly colored food that smelled…very good.

As if I had some paranormal sense of location, I spotted the morphed Andalites immediately, busy stuffing a bizarre, thick circle dripping with a sort of grainy brownish goo. White foam was dripping wetly from the circle as well.

And gazes of humans seemed to shift on them for only a second, as if afraid to stare, before walking away either giving largely proud looks or ill-concealed snickers.

I approached cautiously, wondering if I should feign to be another high-ranking Andalite instead of lowly _decol_ Ankulei. In the end, I settled upon being myself and making up an excuse on why I was on Earth…though it would be something along the line of humans, morphing, and research for Fradulan.

The Andalite looked up at me with wide, wild eyes, mouth enameled with the shiny brown goop as he shamelessly slurped the end of his drippy food. "Ah! An Andalite?"

"Yes," I said, refraining from playing with the noises, as I felt I knew who this Andalite was. "I am Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill."

"The _decol_," the Andalite-in-morph said knowingly, his lips dripping with the goo. He noisily slurped it up, his face contorting in what was sure to be human ecstasy. "I am veteran Captain-Prince Cosolran-Semitur-Juran, and this is my family. My wife, Jasalra-Semitur-Juran, and my children, Ilim and Ximilar. Ahhh, _decol _Ankulei – you must try this! It is a human creation that they call a 'cinnamon bun.' Here, you may take one of ours…"

The morphed Captain-Prince Cosolran lifted one of the foam-caked swirls and dropped it into my cupped hands, then immediately licked his fingers. I pulled out a chair for myself with my sticky hands and eyed the gleaming object distastefully, then slowly brought it to my human mouth.

I almost reeled with the suddenness of the swirly-item's effect. Oh! Oh! I was shocked and stared at the bitten swirly-thing in my hands. Electrifying my tongue, the brown goop so very…_sweet_! The texture of the thick white foam on my tongue! The depth! The newness! The…TASTE!

I quickly devoured it, eyes wide with excitement. No other creature I had morphed had a sense of taste – or, at least, it was too insignificant for them to notice. Perhaps once or twice I had felt the warmth of fresh-killed meat, or the coolness of water against my parched throat, but…oh! This was so much different! So new! As if I had never known color, had never known sight at all, and one day some great one had come and opened my eyes!

It was impossible, and yet it was happening! It was…it was…indefinite heaven. I could hardly believe it. And yet – and yet – 

I took another cinnamon bun, remembering my manners belatedly and looking to the veteran Captain-Prince to see what he thought of my theft – but he was too busy shoveling other human food items into his mouth: these long, golden, semi-rectangular things coated with diminutive glimmering white specks. I smiled unconsciously at the cinnamon bun and devoured it greedily, feeling its juices creep from my mouth and slither sluggishly down my cheek and neck.

Oh! It was beyond me why humans would not spend their whole day indulging in their sweet-tasting creations. Why they valued their poor technology over the wonderfulness of a cinnamon bun. Oh! They were so strange, to pass up such an astonishing experience! So ignorant of what was already in their natural possession!

I took another cinnamon bun, and another, and another. I lost perception of all time, was blind and deaf to anything except what was before me…

Until someone prodded my shoulder with a finger.

"Yo, Andalite," said a gruff voice behind me. I turned in shock, mouth agape, and the male middle-aged human chuckled at me. "Sorry to say, but we're closing now, dude. You need to get out of here."

"You will take away the delicious cinnamon buns? Zuh?"

"Uh, well, _yeah_. Duh," the male added as if on afterthought, a mouth-sound that was used to express a much shorter form of: "You must be an idiot if you do not know this."

"Where can I find more?" I asked desperately as he pushed me off of the table. I noticed that Cosolran and his family had already departed, and felt my human face flush with embarrassment – a temporary emotion-induced redness that stained the cheeks when a human was humiliated, angry, or experiencing similar feelings. I was quite proud of my life sciences and study of other species, though at the moment knowing that my physical reactions were so fragile made me feel unbalanced.

"Uh, I dunno," the male said, shrugging and pushing me further away, towards the large black-framed glass doors. "Maybe you can go over to Krispy Kreme Donuts – they're open twenty four-seven, so you don't need to worry about closing time."

"Where is this Kris –"

"A few blocks or so from Merisdel street," the guy explained, waving a hand at me impatiently. "You better go – the manger won't be very happy if you're still in here after closing."

I turned and quickly left at that, not wishing to invoke a human's anger and perhaps endanger the future possibility of retaining more cinnamon buns from this place, and walked into the cool night air of outside. The night was a very dark, very…_final_ black, tinted with the gold-orange light of electrical lights hanging from tall poles. I walked forward, lost, unable to find this "Merisdel." Nor, I realized, did I know what kind of measurement was equivalent to a "block."

Horrible. I was lost on a human world, in a human body.

No, not lost! What was I thinking? I was just in a human _morph_ – I could always morph back to Andalite and then into a creature more capable of traveling in a nocturnal environment.

The idea sent me into sudden shock. How long had I been in morph?!

I had lost track of time in my blissful consumption! I quickly ran towards a small isle between two restaurants that could ensure my privacy (though humans seemed to not be fazed by me, I still wanted to keep the guise that I _was_ a human to prevent arousing unwanted attentions), already focusing on my original body –

"Hey. Hey, you."

I turned, eyes wide, noting vaguely the quicker pulsing of my single heart and as my endocrine system released adrenaline, the chemical humans released when under any periods of stress. I hadn't known that there had been humans "hanging" in the alleyway as well. I looked down, assessed myself. Good. Still none of me had yet changed…but I would have to hurry and either ask the humans or leave or vacate myself. Consequently, the "fight or flight" stage of stress began to surface, and – being Andalite first and foremost before any other forms – I chose the latter.

"I am sorry. Reee," I said, unable to avoid playing with the mouth-sounds on my tongue. "I am an Andalite in morph. I did not know that you had already occupied –"

"Andalite, huh?" the voice said with a surprising amount of contempt. I felt some movement behind me, and cursed the fact that I had no rear vision as two humans harshly grabbed both my arms, crossing them behind me and rendering me helpless. Oh, that I had some rear vision; my human arms may have been strong, but certainly not as powerful as the arms of the ones behind me. I glanced backward to sight my captors, and saw only black on black, with a numerous array of blue and green lines. The humans had, apparently, donned themselves in artificial skin that covered up most of their true skin in an effort to camouflage.

A transport vehicle purred from somewhere farther behind, headlights beaming and then dimming to utter darkness, and paused its movement just before the alleyway.

I knew even before that vehicle drove up that I was trapped.

The human that had spoken before stepped forward, only slightly seen from the soft glow from both human restaurants on either side. He motioned for my captors to release me, and release me they did, letting me collapse to the grimy asphalt floor. The leader helped me up good-naturedly, though somehow a sinister air played about every movement, and I felt the almost clammy warmth of the wool artificial wearing on his hand. His other hand held a box, of which was labeled _Krispy Kreme Donuts_.

The donuts that the human at the mall had told me about!

"You want these?" the human asked, waving the box in my face. I considered. I needed to demorph, and immediately.

"No thank you," I said politely. "The offer is very appealing, but I am afraid I must demorph now or risk being trapped in human morph forever."

"Is that so?" the human inquired, though somehow the his tone was not that one of a question. He looked back at his fellows, his eyes darting behind the holes in the ersatz-skin garment he was wearing on his head, and they came up behind me and shoved me forward. I gave a cry as I again landed on the ground, and felt a rain of kicks from all directions, crushing my feeble frame. I yelped and curled into a little ball, ignoring the trash and other wastes that were clinging to my exposed skin.

"What, humans aren't _good_ enough for you?" the leader asked, throwing the box behind him. It landed with a hollow _thunk_, which signaled to be that it had been empty. His offer had been as untrustworthy as he had been.

"No!" I assured quickly, unrolling myself and backing away, thoughts evading the sharp pain that lanced up my arms and back and stomach and legs. "That was not what I implied when I said I wished to demorph, and I am sorry if I caused you offense. I merely wish to return to my true form so –"

"So you can go back to all your other Andalite friends and all celebrate about how all us humans are so stupid?" the human continued for me, spitting on my leg, a sign of great human loathing. "Nuh-uh. You might get away from us alive, Andalite…but it won't be as an Andalite."

They all laughed, the same sound that the human "George" had emitted earlier, though with a cruel timbre. I struggled to my human feet, arms braced against the wall to help me keep my balance.

"This is not fair," I said in a trembling voice, knowing what they had meant by their threat and knowing perfectly that they would carry it out. I stepped forward, putting out my strong human arms and preparing to push the man over with it. But he was more experienced with the body than I was – of course – and he merely pushed me back on the ground, pulling out a human contraption that served as a weapon. The primitive Andalite shredder – a gun.

In this body – in _most_ of the bodies I possessed, actually – the bullet shot from that barrel would kill me. I froze, and his fellows pulled guns and pointed them at me as well.

"Freeze," the leader said icily. "You're not moving from that spot until we count up two hours."

"Please let me demorph!" I cried, anguished, knowing that already my minutes were counting down. The leader smiled – the slight crinkling of his eyes were proof of that, though I was not able to see his mouth through the mask.

I quivered, the idea of being a human finally taking its effect on me. Humans were fine, yes – but Andalite was my life. Andalite was who I _was_. And if I were a _nothlit_, then I would no longer be able to do my work – no longer to zip incognito in personal Andalite ships as a _surujuli_, no longer soaring through the skies as a _kafit_ bird.

It would be risky, my plan how to get out of this, and I was unsure of what the humans' reactions would be – shoot, or run away screaming? I had not yet studied humans sufficiently enough to estimate what number of them would succumb to the "fight" or "flight" of their stress-management sequence. But either way, I would be free…either in death or liberation.

I focused, felt the DNA rising to my command, and mentally pulled apart the strands of its making and attached them to myself. My shoulder blades began to ache, as if they had been under a great pressured for days, and I felt my skin break numbly and my shoulder blades elongate into immense wings, the leotard that I was wearing torn by the sharp blade-like wingtip. The wing-frame continued to grow at my bidding, to its full size, and then the tiny weak claws emerged and flexed, sharp little points gleaming. More bones erupted from that point, like rapidly forming stalactites, and the thin, semitransparent mud-hued membrane stretched and filled in those gaps. I watched the expression on the humans' face, waiting for their verdict, as my other wing emerged much in the same way. If this didn't work the way I hoped…

However, my crude thesis had been correct. The humans stared, wide-mouthed at my transformation, and I groaned – a sound that sounded much like a growl in my re-forming throat and vocal chords. My throat bulged, my eyes multiplied, my hands grew fatter and thick-clawed –

A gunshot thundered, making the very air vibrate. I shuddered and waited, preparing myself for the pain that would come – but none did. I opened an eye, and saw that the humans were taking off running, jumping into the transport vehicle and driving off with wild cries.

I allowed myself to exhale, just now realizing that I hadn't been breathing, and quickly reversed both morphs, focusing on Andalite. Hoping I wasn't too late.

__

Andalite, Andalite, Andalite, I chanted, eyes closed in concentration. _Please, please…Andalite, Andalite!_

I felt the changes coming. Yes! For once, I didn't bother with making the morph pretty – hooves bulged from brown-tan mass, wings shriveled, my tail slithered from my back end like a dying blade-headed snake, and everything turned a clear azure.

Then, no changes. I opened one eye, almost afraid, and stretched my arms out before me.

Andalite arms. Blue-furred, seven-fingers, delicate.

I almost pranced for joy.

And then I saw the dark-skinned human before me, the last trace of what looked to be feathers on her skin melting away to supple smoothness. She had her hands on her hips and was giving me a deadly look that held the slightest mark of fear and astonishment.

"Alright," she said in a firm voice. "Just who – and _what_ – are you?"

She never received her answer – the stress of over-morphing had taken its vengeful toll, and I fell over, unconscious before I hit the ill-tended ground.

~

When I next awakened, my first thought was shock – shock and fear and wonder and confusion, an incoherent array of all my emotions fisted and expelled into my mind for further examination. I struggled to my hooves, absently rubbing sore stalk-eyes, and as soon as the bottom of my right hoof touched against the ground I tasted – no, _felt_ – grass being crushed and absorbed into my systems.

One stalk eye turned up and saw sunlight, and my other swiveled around to assess my surroundings. It was largely green, with trees, and a sparkling body of water somewhere in the distance. I saw several Hork-Bajir footprints in the ground, deep marks that sank deep into the lush grass, some of the massive deadly toes even gouging in as far as to show smidgens of soil.

"Awake, now, are you?" asked a familiar voice. I turned my head and saw the dark-skinned human, sitting on the grass casually, leaning against her two arms, which were propped up behind her. Her legs were set in an angle so they made a triangle, the bottom side being the ground.

Yes, I replied, trying to sound just as nonchalant about the matter. The girl tilted her head at me, looking for all the world as if she was amused by my answer.

"I saw what you did to those Anti-Alienists last night," she said conversationally.

Anti-Alienists?

"They don't like…people from off-world," the girl said, shrugging. I saw a flicker of rage dart past her face like the shadow of a fleeing bird, disappearing as soon as it was seen. "They don't think you belong here. You're different, so you aren't to be trusted."

I could say nothing to _that_ – what exactly would be the proper response? She didn't seem to be of this "Anti-Alienists" category herself, and of the Alienists' thoughts on different-world inhabitants…well, I heavily disapproved.

But I was obviously biased.

I…am sorry for them, I said finally, uneasily. She lifted an eyebrow at me.

"Sorry? You pity them?" she echoed, sounding not angry, but interested.

They simply do not understand that bodies do not matter, I said simply, shrugging myself, imitating her human gesture. I believed in my statement greatly, being in many different bodies myself. Mind was truly the judge of character…mind and heart. Though "heart" in the most connotative of meanings; of course the true circulatory organ was physical, but it seemed in every culture feeling originated always where the life was transported.

She smiled, and I felt relieved by her reaction.

"Yeah, some people just can't understand," she said distantly, looking off past me. My two stalk eyes followed her gaze, rotating completely around, and I saw that she had been looking at the trees. They had the low slashes that I knew Hork-Bajir left on their territories, from their deep blades against the bark when they climbed, but I saw no Hork-Bajir in sight. "Some people just don't see the mind underneath the body."

Yes, I agreed. Seeing that this was proceeding to no clear destination other than serving as a small, yet profound conversation, I took the initiative. Who are you?

"Cassie," the girl said, looking at me. She gave a mirthless smile. "Cassie the Animorph, Assistant to the President for Resident Aliens or something useless like that. Who are _you_?"

I am Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill, I said, straightening my back proudly. Thinking further, I added, a _decol._

"_Vecol_?" Cassie echoed, her eyes immediately darting to my tail. I "frowned."

_Decol_, I corrected. Experiment. It derives from the term –

She laughed. "That's all right, just an explanation of the word will be fine. But why – only if you feel comfortable about answering, of course – is it…experiment?"

I am an experiment under Project Hybrid, led by the Scientist Fradulan-Drisrouth-Semulan, Section Three-Seventeen of the Warith Field, I said, the words perfectly rehearsed. I am treated with recent state-of-the-art morphing technology, which allows me advanced manipulation of my morphs, though there are numerous theories on how I am able to do so. One is that I am able to consciously pick apart the very strands of DNA that I acquire and apply them to myself, altering my –

"Um," Cassie interrupted, lifting a hand to stop me from speaking further. "Slow down, will you? God, I almost forgot what it was like talking to Ax…"

Ax? I repeated, bewildered. An ax? Was that not a primitive human tool? Humans speak to inanimate objects?

Cassie laughed. "No, no, not an _ax_, like what you use to cut trees! 'Ax' – it's short for Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill…" She smiled dryly. "I'm sure you know him."

Prince Aximili! I cried. So this "Cassie" knew him! Perhaps she would know –

"But anyway, back to this Project Hybrid you were talking about," Cassie prodded. I started to protest, but then stopped. It would be better not to make this human angry – she might be able to help me. I began to recite the information again, but she disrupted again, with a quick, "But explain it to where _I_ can understand, please."

Ah… I said, lost for words. To where a human could understand? But this was the simplest explanation I could think of! Ah, well…I have the ability to morph into other species with advan…more control than one would normally acquire with the granted abilities of the morphing device you call the 'Blue Box.' I am also able to util – er, use – different particles of DNA and amalgamate – mix – them together, therefore morphing into possibly several species simultaneously by selecting which traits I wish to manifest.

"Oh, wow," Cassie said in wonderment, leaning forward without use of her arms and folding her legs, looking at me avidly. "So you're basically saying you can morph two different things at once?"

Correct.

"So if you, like, wanted to be half a cat and half a dog then you could just form a mental image of the parts you want in your mind from those two, like a dog's nose and a cat's claws, or something?"

Correct.

"Without going back to Andalite first?"

Correct.

"Huh. Well, then that would explain how you grew wings last night," Cassie said, standing up and brushing herself off. I saw that she, too, was wearing the artificial skin called a leotard, and for a moment I wondered why. Then I remembered – she had called herself Cassie the Animorph. I recalled dimly that "Animorph" was the name that the handful of humans bestowed with morphing technology had called themselves. The humans that had gone up bravely against Visser One, along with Aximili –

Yes! If she had once known Aximili, then she was most likely an Animorph, and her strange garb was because she had morphed some kind of Earth creature to bring me to this place from the dirty space between buildings.

She, out of any humans in this world, would more likely know how to get a ship that could travel in Z-Space.

Oh! I said suddenly, as she stood.

"Yes?"

I wish to speak with you, I said seriously, taking a step forward, about Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.

I saw her visibly stiffen, saw the confident composure melt for just a second. And in that second, I saw a harassed almost-adult of her species, tired and deeply frustrated with something. But it was merely a second, and soon it had gone away.

"Why?" Cassie asked plaintively.

I…was sent on a mission, I lied. No, not truly a lie – it _was_ true, in a way. To save him. I know that he went into _Kelbrid_ territory, but in order to get there I am in need of a space transport capable of entering Z-Space.

Cassie stared, faltered. For a moment I brightened, but then: "I can't help you."

Why? I demanded, more shocked than defiant.

"I told Jake I wouldn't go," Cassie said quietly, looking off to the side and not meeting any of my eyes.

Jake?

Ah, of course. _Jake._

What? I pursued. Cassie sighed deeply and shook her head, then turned to me.

"Well, if you think that I know where you can get some non-Andalite ship or something to take you up to the _Kelbrid_, you're mistaken," Cassie told me. I was surprised at how much she knew about this, and must have let it show, because she smiled grimly. "Yes, I know about the Andalites and the _Kelbrid_. Jake, Marco, Tobias and some others left to go find Ax – but Jake wanted me to stay here. To continue what I was born to do."

And that was…?

She narrowed her eyes slightly, but the emotion was not directed towards me. "Taking care of the Hork-Bajir, making sure resident aliens stay happy." She spread her arms out helplessly, gestured at the trees and at me. "As you can see, I haven't been doing it very well."

I turned a stalk eye to the trees, sweeping over their wide unending canopies. No Hork-Bajir in sight. And _I_ had been attacked just the night before – what would have happened had I not been the _decol_ I was?

Any other unfortunate Andalite would be a human _nothlit_.

"It's happened already," Cassie said, as if she were reading my thoughts. "I forget the names of the Andalites trapped, but they're out there…under special protection of the government, a apology disguised in the best facilities and food for them – a life-time of paradise treatment, in exchange for the loss of…so you see why I can't help."

She turned again, and I saw on her arms that the faint etchings of white-gray feathers lightening her skin, enveloping them in wintry flakes. She was obviously an _estreen_ – a _true_ _estreen_, with the actual _talent_ – and it was beautiful…but I disrupted it.

You can't help, I said, trotting forward and putting a light seven-fingered hand on her shoulder. But what if you could?

"If I could?" Cassie retorted, turning, her dark hair transforming elegantly into a mane of feathers, a primal headdress. "If I _could_?"

Yes, I said, the faintest idea and premonition in my mind. If you _could_ help…would you?

"Well, rather than face the president and the tourists, yes," Cassie said dryly, the feathers receding back into supple dark skin. "Rather than explain why all the Hork-Bajir are gone, yes. If I could help, well…then yes. I would. I would most definitely lay my life on the line…just to follow something I believe in again."

We looked at each other again, and after a moment of silence I felt crestfallen that my inkling had not fallen through –

But then I felt my hooves leaving the ground, and my stomach gave a whirl as I again entered the realm that was not.


	7. Change of Heart l Cassie

Notes:

--...yoroshiku, baby! *mwee*

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 7

Cassie

By Aura Kage

You can't help, the Andalite female that I was already thinking of as simply "Anku" in my mind said with a strange tone. She trod forward and put a delicate many-fingered hand on my shoulder as if to ease a scared animal. But what if you could?

If I _could_? Why was she even _asking_? Of course I would! To help Jake, to help Ax, Marco, Tobias – of course! I had stayed behind to continue a dream – but that dream had turned out to be a nightmare.

"If I could?" I said, regretting that I had nearly snapped at the Andalite. I reversed the morph, feeling my feathers sink back into my skin with a distant itch. "If I _could_?"

Yes. If you _could_ help…would you?

"Well, rather than face the president and the tourists, yes," I told her flatly. "Rather than explain why all the Hork-Bajir are gone, yes. If I could help, well…then yes. I would."

She looked at me with a deepness, a profoundness that was strange, as if she was expecting something to happen.

And then, all of a sudden, I felt the firmness of the moist ground give away under my feet as I was hoisted into the air by an invisible hand, and the peaceful Yosemite landscape fell apart in a myriad of earthen novas exploding all at once.

~

It seemed like hours when I was able to regain my "thoughts," but when I did, I still wasn't sure that I _had_. All around was a dark blackness – a sable so…so _final_ that it scared me. It was as if you had been living in your little house for your whole life and then suddenly looked out a window and saw _nothing_. Saw _nothing_, when some back part of you knew that there was supposed to be _something_ there. Disturbing. Discomforting.

And then I saw that familiar blue glow comings towards us, with the familiar and yet dis-attached _clop, clop, clop_ of hooves or hard-soled shoes. I felt his presence in my mind even before I saw him, knew somehow that this was all _his_ doing.

The Ellimist. He who was of no gender, the one that was also many.

He appeared, an old little man, and how he had made the hoof-noises I didn't know. He came towards us – I felt Anku beside me, though I still hadn't "acknowledged" her – with the grace of a swan on seamless deep water.

****

Very complementing, Cassie, the Ellimist remarked upon reading my thoughts. **Cassie the Animorph.**

So sick of people calling me that. So sick of _me_ calling me that. I mean, only "high-ranking" people had the word "_the"_ in their names – _the_ President, King Arthur of _the_ Round Table, _the_ star of so-and-so some-such sitcom or whatever.

****

And Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill, of course, the Ellimist said, turning to the Andalite experiment, as she had called herself, and smiling warmly. Ankulei only looked back at him with stony eyes, eyes that were her own Andalite brilliant green and the expressive eyes of a hundred and then some other different species. Her "form" in this…wherever-this-was…was strange – her own Andalite form, and the wraiths of what looked to be all of her acquired morphs in a semi-transparent mist shrouding her body. Behind her I saw the massive hindquarters of beings too large to comprehend, and the feathered, scaled, and dragonic wings of avian creatures too distant to even think about.

And what was I? I looked down, and saw only me, Cassie.

Of course. I was enough of an anomaly as I was in my _own_ body. I didn't need an Ellimist to contort my image in order to be weird.

****

Why your change of heart, Cassie? The Ellimist asked, tilting the head of his little-old-man guise. **Wasn't there once a pacifist girl where you are now?**

I hated the way he talked – as if he was above us all, talking down, and acting as if we should appreciate his attention. As if he were the player, and we were the pawns. No, no, not "_as if"_ – we _were_ the pawns. The pawns in his little game with the Crayak.

But he was right. The Cassie-During-Yeerk-War wouldn't have thought such scornful thoughts. What had I become?

We were locked in gazes, the Ellimist and I, for what seemed to be centuries and what should have been seconds…though now we were in the Ellimist's "world," so I suppose that shouldn't have been strange. Centuries would seem like seconds if you were immortal, afterall, and that was what I was convinced the Ellimist was.

You said you would help, Anku said accusingly, taking a step forward, the ghosts of her morphs moving with her. But how can I? Cassie does not know the location of any Z-Space vehicle that can move to _Kelbrid_ territory.

I understood Ankulei's perspective on the Ellimist. Andalites, I learned, didn't trust him very much – he was the figure of omnipotence in stories, but not to be relied on. He used his powers for his own ends and used the universe and everything in it as his game pieces with the Crayak.

Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him either. Anku, though I had just met her formally about ten minutes ago, was someone that I already trusted more than the little blue man in front of me. Staring me down. Daring me to deny that I wanted to help, and daring me to say that I did.

And all around me, the blackness that shouldn't have been there.

"Where are we?" I asked finally, tearing my eyes from the Ellimist's own and looking around. Nothing much to see.

****

We are where we are.

"Oh, so now you've become all philosophical?" I said hotly, surprised at my own irate words. The Ellimist was right – I had had a change of heart.

The Ellimist looked around slowly, relaxed, and then turned back to me. **You don't trust the appearance I put on…very well. Maybe you will trust me more in _this_ form…**

I looked back at the Ellimist and saw the little old man distorting, breaking apart, like a broken holograph – and then reassemble in another blue-radiating body that I knew very well.

Jake.

I stiffened, and I feel more than saw Anku look to me, bewildered as to why I would react to this, or perhaps just my pure reaction. She most likely had heard about Jake the Yeerk-Killer, but had never seen him.

"Get out," I said, hearing my voice break. It was so loud, echoed back and amplified by the walls that bordered all the worlds in existence. "Get out of Jake's body!"

My voice echoed in the vast expanse of ebony, and the Ellimist slowly, painstakingly aged Jake's features until he was again the old man.

Anku glanced at me uneasily with one stalk eye, and then quickly looked back to the Ellimist, again starting her protest. You heard Cassie, no doubt, on Earth. She wishes to help as well. But as to where we can obtain a Z-Space craft…

The Ellimist smiled and turned his attention to Ankulei, temporarily leaving me to my tormented thoughts. **You don't need a Zero Space-capable craft in order to get into _Kelbrid_ territory. I can take you there myself, even make it seem as if you had spent absolutely no time during the journey, though the time it would have taken you to get there via craft will still have elapsed. I can, for now, assure you that the other Animorphs are doing…well…but they will not fare this way much longer without further assistance.**

He sounded like a mechanic telling me that my pipes were clogged; Anku seemed to start excitedly at the idea, but I was troubled. I held up a hand slightly, as if to stop her, and then dropped it limply at my side.

I gazed at the Ellimist defiantly, and he turned jaunty eyes towards me again. "Wait. I don't trust this."

****

And why not?

"Because…of the rules," I said, as if the words were being whispered in my ear and I was just saying them. The Ellimist's eyes flickered, startled, and I gained strength from his loss in composure. "That's it, isn't it? The rules. The rules between you and Crayak. If you…if this…if you're doing this so you can get advantage in the game, then there must be some sort of deal that you had to make with the Crayak. You don't exactly just _bend_ over and help like this."

****

You are correct, Cassie, the Ellimist agreed, not sounding a trace resentful. **There is a pact between Crayak and myself. The stakes are too high to waste. I know nothing myself of what the Crayak plans with the free rein that our concord has promised, but he also does not know what _I'm_ planning to do.**

"But why _me_?" I said helplessly, not even recognizing myself. "Why _us_? Why not some other super-hero clan in the other part of the universe?"

****

Because _they_ could care less about what happens in this place, the Ellimist said simply. **Because _they_ do not have the rather interesting relationship that would bound _them_ to help, if not just to satisfy the obligation of friendship.**

I stared, feeling as if my lower jaw would drop straight off my head. He was _using_ _our morality_? That was just…I don't know. That was just _wrong_. To use something that was supposed to be good for twisted purposes.

"That is _low_," I spat. "That is just _low_."

The Ellimist shrugged, unconcerned. **If you don't want to help, Cassie, then you don't have to. I'm not forcing you to do anything.**

"Yes, you are!" I practically screamed. "You are! You're…you're forcing me, you're using my…my love for Jake against me!"

****

But wasn't this what you wanted to do?

He was making me angry. And he was confusing me…or was I confusing myself? Whatever it was, it just made me angrier.

****

What will it be, Cassie? The Ellimist asked in his infuriatingly calm voice. **Will you help to help, or will you decline if not just to spite me?**

I glared. Felt like screaming. I had tried, tried to be kind to life. Tried to keep a hold on morality just when it seemed it was something that I had to lose for the sake of a billion other humans. Tried to keep human, Hork-Bajir, and Andalite together, peacefully. Tried. Succeeded – temporarily. Then, failed. Life just didn't feel like returning the favor I was trying to give.

"I'll help," I said, grudgingly. "I'll –"


	8. Escaping l Marco

Notes:

--...Short because I needed to change perspectives. ^^;;

--Btw, I'm okay without a beta reader...thanks for offering, though. :D

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 8

Marco

By Aura Kage

"Ram the Blade Ship."

For a moment, the crew of the _Rachel_ just stared at him, Jake – now official leader of the Animorphs, who held a reincarnation of the _Rachel_'s namesake smirk.

I saw Menderash look at me from the corner of my eye, and we exchanged uncertain glances. Then the human _nothlit_ turned slowly towards the wall of the Fighter, fingers tapping against the screen and pulling up numerous incomprehensible lines, words that were written in the good old-fashioned alphabet but might as well have been a different language. Then all of it cleared away, leaving only a bar that was sluggishly filling up with red, like Kool-Aid being poured into a test tube.

"Engine power-up at fifty percent," Menderash said in a monotone voice. We were all watching the screen the screen, save Jake, who was still glaring defiantly at the "One."

The ominous feeling in the air, of the power-meter slowly filling and counting up to the time of our deaths, made me chuckle halfheartedly. No one noticed.

"Engine power-up at seventy-five percent."

I glanced back at the One, who was watching the inside of the Fighter with inexpressive eyes. Eyes that half-belonged to Ax.

He looked like he didn't really believe that we were going to ram his precious Blade Ship head-on.

He had another thing coming.

If he was a "he," anyway.

"Engine power-up at ninety percent."

It was all so dramatic, how Menderash was counting down like that. How everyone on the ship was silent. I heard Tobias ruffle his feathers, wings unfolding and then refolding at his sides.

"Engine power-up complete," Menderash said finally, stuttering a little. He turned from the button and lever-ridden counter, to Jake. "Initiating S-Drive 15-10."

"What's the 'S' stand for?" I asked, unable to help myself. "Suicidal?"

Everyone ignored me, of course. Apparently my logic was not worth noting.

"Fighter will ram the Blade Ship in one minute," Menderash droned on. Silence. Then: "Should we not take this time to board the escape pods?"

"Escape pods?" Jake said, turning and looking at the _nothlit_ in surprise. He nodded.

"Yes. I believe I informed you that there were some located on the ship that will automatically be evacuated when _Rachel_ acknowledges Level Seven damage."

"In my opinion, that would be the logical thing to do," Santorelli thought aloud.

"Gee, you think?" I said. "No, let's just all sit here and wait for the Fighter to ram so we can all die and –"

"Let's go," Jake interrupted. We all vacated the cockpit (or whatever it was called…hey, I'm not in charge of these things) and followed Menderash to wherever the escape pods were. They were cute little things, if not as elegant as the _Rachel_ – colored somewhat of a dull black-chrome, like the back of a beetle. Enormous gears that rotated with the strong triple-glass windows were dull purple-silver, and the whole thing was about the shape of a horizontal teardrop, streamlined and pretty.

And also possibly only able to hold about two people each, might I add.

"Lucky you aren't that big, Birdboy," I muttered audibly. "But whose going where?"

"Fifteen seconds," Menderash muttered.

"Um," Jake said quickly, looking around at the five of us. "Um, Santorelli, Menderash, and I will go in one; Marco, Tobias, and Jeanne will go in the other."

"Ten seconds," Menderash continued, hastily shoving up the window of an escape pod, which moved up with mechanical grace. Jake and Santorelli quickly piled into that one, and me – being the only actual "man" of my designated group – placed my fingers in the small niche between the glass and the outer wall of the escape pod, pulling it up with my oh-so-manly strength. I allowed Jeanne to crawl into the small space, and then Tobias – hey, I didn't exactly want him to foot me with his evil little feet – and then crawled in myself, pulling down on a handle underneath the window to close it. Jeanne found a handle as well, and helped tugged down. I noticed, absentmindedly of course, that she was pressed against my side. Okay, so maybe the girl took too many bathroom breaks – but she was still very, very hot.

"Five seconds!" Menderash shouted, his voice strangely muffled and amplified at the same time. Evidently the last five seconds were important enough to be shouted.

The window clicked closed. I felt a sudden sick feeling in my stomach and shifted around a little. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

Stop moving, you're crushing my wing, Tobias grumbled.

"What?" Jake demanded from the other pod, obviously hearing me.

"Three seconds!"

"I meant, maybe we shouldn't do this without properly jinxing the whole thing," I concluded resolutely. I grinned at Jeanne, who looked bewildered. "May I do the honors?"

I could swear I saw Jake grin through that impossibly thick flawless metal. "Go."

"Two seconds!"

"What are you talking about?" Jeanne asked.

"Shh – this requires immense concentration," I told her seriously. I allowed myself a few seconds of dramatic pause, and then said the forbidden words: "Let's do it."

"Excuse me?"

"One second!"

There was a moment of silence, of waiting. Then the whole ship jerked, and I slammed forward, head crashing into the window – which was, surprisingly, not transparent anymore. Darkness, like black paint rolling down from the top of the window, was obscuring everything from vision. The bottom of the escape pod started to glow a bit, and I felt something slither up from the ground and slap around my stomach, pulling me back from the walls and holding me in place.

Ack! Tobias cried as the snake-thing, no doubt, attempted to grab him around the stomach as well.

I felt the pod being moved backward by gravity, could envision the lovely _Rachel_ zooming forward like a death-scythe towards the neck of unsuspecting victim number one. Towards the Blade Ship, where the actual Rachel had died so long ago. The massive vibration of the ship moving shook the inside of the pod, and I waited for the _crash_ that would result from the impact any second.

In fact, I realized, we might actually be blown to bits before the ship dropped us out. It was not a very happy thought. Maybe it was because I was not in a very happy place.

But no – I felt the escape pod tip forward, so far that I was vertical, with my head facing what was once the window of the escape pod but was now just another wall. We hung in that position for the longest minute in the world, waiting for the inevitable fall.

I gulped and laughed a bit. "Have I mentioned yet that this is crazy, stupid, will permanently put us on the insanity-path-of-no-return –"

Spare us. Please.

"God, Tobias, you –"

And _then_ we started falling.

~

I think maybe I blacked out on the way down to…wherever. Because when I woke up, I was still in the escape pod, but with a very different difference – it had been cracked. Purply sunlight filtered in through the fracture in the smooth shell of the escape pod. I groaned and tried to move, but the strap around my waist prevented me from doing much of anything.

I looked over at Jeanne and Tobias. The former was still unconscious, her mouth slightly open and hair disheveled, but still very hot, in that messy sort of way. The latter was awake, but helpless, as the "seat belt" had gone over his back, pinning one wing down. I realized belatedly that there were feathers all over the interior of the pod.

"Hey, Tobias," I said awkwardly, as he continued to glare at me. I tried to move, but that strap was really, _really_ tight.

Hey, he replied unenthusiastically. He flapped the one wing that was still free. You mind freeing me here?

"I can't move at all," I said, struggling in vain to prove it. I glanced back further, pain lancing in my neck – ugh, I hope it wasn't broken – and saw that his talons were close to the strap. "Hey, maybe if you can tear up this seat belt I'll be able to free you and Jeanne."

Tobias nodded in agreement and beat his free wing as he lashed out several times with his talon, trying to inch closer to get a better shot. Luckily enough, the strap wasn't strong, but it still took several minutes before Tobias was able to fully wreak havoc upon it.

I started to stand – and hit my head against the ceiling.

"They should really make these things bigger," I grumbled, rubbing my head and easily undoing the strap around Tobias. It was designed much like a seat-belt strap, and as soon as the buckle was loosed the belt fluttered towards the sides of the pod and disappeared. "Whoever makes them, anyway."

I don't think they expected people to try and stand up in them, Tobias said dryly as the strap came off. He quickly tried to get to his talons, raking the soft bottom of the escape pod, shedding several more feathers in the process.

I moved on to Jeanne and undid her strap while Tobias flapped up to the cracked shell and perched, looking all around. His russet-brown plumage was discolored by the violet light, making it seem that he was blackish and bluish and opposed to brown and red.

Whoa, he said, looking around. I propped Jeanne up. This place is really weird.

"How weird?" I asked. "As in, stupid weird? Insanely weird? Animorphs weird?"

Weird as in…weird weird.

"Ah. Feeling very descriptive, aren't we?"

I don't see Jake or the others, Tobias continued. Come up here and look.

"Alright." I left Jeanne and stood up – carefully. My head came up easily through the opening in the escape pod, and as soon as my eyes adjusted to the strange light, I whistled. "Uh, yeah. I think that would probably constitute was 'weird weird.'"

Up in the pale orange sky – yes, _orange_, like a neon "caution, weirdness here" sign – was a small, very distant sun, colored so bright purple that it looked white. After the flashes in my vision dwindled away (note to self: suns near strange plants are just as strong as suns near earth, and therefore should not be looked directly into), I noticed belatedly that the whole silent landscape seemed to be a flat cross between sandy and soil-y. You know, grainy but…soft looking.

Oh, and probably the most significant part – hardly any trees. The only ones were distant, tall spiky things that looked like porcupines who got on the wrong side of adolescence and a growth spurt. Come hither, rich tourists – visit the luscious purple sands of Distant-and-Unknown-Planet!

Okay, so trees might not seem _too_ important. But then you get to thinking, "Hey, wait, don't you need trees to have oxygen? And don't you, like, need oxygen to breathe?"

I gagged and ducked back into the escape pod, and Tobias flapped in alarm and peered down at me.

What's the matter?

"There's no air out there!" I gasped. I don't know how I was able to breathe inside the escape pod – but then, it was an _escape_ pod, and most likely it had some sort of low supply of atmospheric gases that Ax could happily explain to me if I cared to listen for a few years. Tobias continued to look down at me, then back outside, then back down at me again.

I can breathe perfectly fine, Tobias stated. Maybe it's just…um, you hallucinating or something.

"Me? _Hallucinating_?"

Well, whatever it is, we've got to go find Jake and the others, Tobias said. Like I said, I can't see them, and that means they must be really far. Hawk eyes don't miss much.

"Yeah," I agreed, tentatively standing and checking out the atmosphere again. After a few moments I felt light-headed. "Hey, man, I really don't think I can –"

Pain interrupted me; I stared down in surprise at the feathered purple dart that had buried itself into my arm. Tobias screeched and flew away, probably too startled to get over the hawk's instincts.

And suddenly, I felt _way_ more than light-headed.

They came from underground! Tobias yelled, his winged frame arcing into the sky, gaining altitude. I can't get them – if I get any closer, the leader's going to shoot me with that…that _thing_ he has!

"No…" I called, already weak. Whoo…that must have been some strong sedative. For a moment the image of a gorilla popped into my mind, but I forced it away; even the knights of ye olde knew never to bare your most powerful strength to the enemy immediately. And Tobias needed to…he needed to get away… so that he could warn the others. "No, no…fly away go find Jake…" I chuckled. "Fly away…little ladybird. The blackbirds're outta the pie _now_."

I'm not going to leave you! Tobias protested. I just need to make sure that –

"Go _away_," I said firmly, looking down at a disoriented something that was crawling up the side of the escape pod with the agility of a big cat. "Tobias, you can't…"

I can't what? Marco? Marco?! MARCO!


	9. Musings l Tobias

Notes:

--Argh. Sorry this chapter's so crummy; I just needed to explain what the planet looks like a little more. The next one will get on with the half-formed plot in my mind, dunt worry. O.o;;

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 9

Tobias

By Aura Kage

MARCO! I shouted, in vain attempt to wake him up. It was no use – whatever sedative had been in that dart was too powerful.

If a dart was that strong for a _human_, then I hated the thought of what it might do to a hawk. The human in me shuddering, I took flight, feeling guilty for not spotting the…things…in the first place. Then again, they _did_ come from the ground, and I was too preoccupied with the landscape…

It bothered me. A lot. And it bothered the hawk, too…"the hawk" being the actual mind of my body. My split personality. Ha.

Anyway, it bothered both of us, and for multiple reasons. The first was the silence. The hawk's primordial instincts and memories were always of predator and prey, the sounds of water running and the wind through the canopies of trees that bordered lovely small meadows. The twitching of mice, the erratic hops of rabbits. There was total absence of…any of that there. No animals at all. No sounds. No trees…no trees that I recognized, anyway. Only the steady, slow rippling of the strange looking ground.

And that was another thing. There was absolutely _no_ wind, yet I could see the infinitesimal grains of sand being pushed along by some invisible force. But no wind.

In fact, the air in _general_ bothered me. It was thicker, somehow…I felt more solidity when my wings beat down on the dead air, felt almost as if I were flying through water. When I breathed, it was with more effort. The air was dense, almost as if it were…well, I don't know. Too big for my nostrils?

Maybe that was why Marco couldn't breathe. The air was thicker, or something.

Yes, there was a lot about this place that was bothering me. And the hawk. In fact, the hawk was almost out of its mind with hysterics. But no, even that wouldn't be right…the hawk could probably care less. I tried to comprehend what it thought about this, but it seemed to be only mildly disturbed. Like: "Oh, maybe it's just _this_ place that's different, there's bound to be a meadow or prey _somewhere_ over in _that_ direction…"

I turned in the air, feeling the vibration of the hard wind working against my movements, and saw that the creatures had already towed Marco and Jeanne from the escape pod. They reminded me of moles, somewhat. Humanized moles. Their "hands" were of two long, sharp blades and three smaller, more flexible fingers that included an opposable thumb, which was probably what they had used to pick up that tube-like dart shooter they used on Marco. Their barreled torsos obviously held large lungs – for more endurance, more strength when they dug. (I was assuming now that they dug, considering that they came out of the ground.) Their rat-like visages were adorned with long whiskers, slender pivotal ears, and small dark eyes that didn't look as if they could see at all. Their legs looked powerful enough, thick and with talon-like claws that were…webbed. Killer duck feet. Donald would have gone ballistic.

Were these the _Kelbrid?_ I hoped not. If they were, well…I couldn't think of any of our morphs that could take out claws like _that_.

I could spot the leader immediately, even in the distorted light. He was wearing a band around his forehead and upper arms. A band that, even contorted in the purple sun, I could tell was unmistakably blue.

He gestured to the others and began a series of grunt-groans, and they replied with a strange gurgle, like a fish trying to sing an opera. They took Marco and Jeanne and literally jumped into the unflawed ground, disappearing – forever? – into impenetrable depths of sand.

The leader turned back to the escape pod and ran his claw over the smoothness, and seemed both disgusted and awed by it. I watched from a distance, circling, as he arched those claws up in the air and ripped a hole into the ship's interior as easily as if he were cutting up a piece of bread. _That_ scared me. That ship had endured going through space and tearing through the atmosphere of this planet, then landed on the ground with only a small crack. And yet this mole-thing had just sliced through it?

That was like me meeting a triple-steel vault that had been strong enough to live through lava, and making an incision as if I were cutting through water.

Then he turned and leaped back into the ground claws-first, revealing a plating of stone-like armor on his back. The ground filled in behind him, leaving no trace that he had ever been there before. He had, obviously, not spotted me at all…I didn't think that he had, as I had a guess that he was blind.

I looked down at the ground, now still and silent. I couldn't risk landing on that ground. Those things, if they were predators, probably hunted by vibrations made by prey on the surface, and that was probably why this place was void of any life. I spotted one of the distant "trees" and headed towards it, hoping for the best.

As soon as I neared, I saw that landing was not an option. The "tree" was like wannabe Hulk cactus – there was no clear spot to land, unless I wanted to impale myself twenty different times at the same time. It didn't look as if the long quills were strong enough to support my weight anyway.

I couldn't fly forever. But I couldn't land, either. Fuming silently, I cast a glance around to see if I could spot Jake. Nope. Nothing.

And now Marco was gone. I hadn't done anything to help except watch from afar.

__

You're a coward, Tobias. Dirty little bird, flying around trying to find safe haven when you should be looking for the others…

I shoved the thoughts from my mind and started back for the escape pod.

~

I think I maybe sat there for a whole day, just thinking. What should I do next? How could I eat?

I tried morphing…back into my old body, which made me feel even worse than I had in my hawk body. Strange that I now regarded a fierce red-tailed raptor as my true form rather than the one that I had been born in. Strange that I felt bare and insecure without feathers and wings and deadly beak and talons and avian vision and hearing.

No morph I could think of could help me _here_, though, so I just went back into hawk.

And waited.

For what? I don't know. Just waited. I had the strangest feeling that _something_ was about to happen – I didn't know whether it was good or bad, but I knew it was significant.

I watched the sun set – not directly, but you get what I mean – and the dawning of another sun. The faintest tinges of yellow crept into the sky, and soon the vibrant orange was bleached into the off-white color of cheap paint. The sun that had come up was now a pale blue, not as powerful as the old sun, but more like…

__

Like the moon. God, could this be…night?

Or at least the "night" that constituted for this world? I doubted it was, in a truly astronomical sense, a _moon_…it just seemed to be a different sun…a different color. God, was that even right? Were the rays dangerous? Would the atmosphere protect me? My mind ran through a dozen questions all at once, and I just settled on accepting it. No use just sitting there asking when there was no one to give me the answers.

__

You should really get to looking for Jake and Marco and the others, the annoying little voice in my mind said. _They could all be dead for all _you_ know…and Ax, too._

Aw, man. Ax. I forgot all about him.

Yeah, I should get looking…but where to start?

Didn't matter. It wasn't like I could get lost. The beetle-black coating of the escape pod stuck out in the now-white sand.

I spread my wings and pressed them down on that still unfamiliar force in the air, and flew.


	10. The Gyuren l Ankulei

Notes:

--None. ^^;;

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 10

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill

By Aura Kage

Once, I remember, I had seen a small insect flying around on another planet. It was unbelievably small – twenty of them could have perched easily on a strand of my fur, and I would have never noticed. Still, it was visible…and I watched it idly as it was wildly tossed about in the custody of a passing breeze. Its minuscule legs and wings flailed uselessly, and finally it careened relentlessly into a rock, where it was smashed into an almost nonexistent pool of skin and innards.

That's what I felt when we – Cassie and I – were dropped abruptly from the realm of the Ellimist, as if we were falling through an endless array of glowing stars and galaxies. The grass that I had involuntarily absorbed earlier twirled around in my stomach, and an immense nausea greater than that I received from hybrid-morphing swept over me like a tidal wave of sickness.

And then, just as I felt that I couldn't take the tossing any longer, it stopped. I crashed to the ground, seemingly from thin air, my stalk-eyes filming over in a thin sheen of damp soil. I blinked them furiously, trying to clear them, and even as I did I heard the girl Cassie land behind me with a slight grunt of the impact against her furless skin.

Again, I pitied her, poor human that she was.

Slowly, I slid my forelegs underneath me and shoved up into a sitting position, brushing off my arms from the dirt that had accumulated upon them and gently caressing my stalk-eyes with the tips of my fingers, clearing them of the film.

My main eyes, meanwhile, immediately noticed two things, both of which frightened me immensely.

The first was that the Ellimist had dropped us in some sort of underground area, and if I reached up with my hands I could easily press my fingers against the roof. Andalites are, unfortunately, grazing beings and susceptible to claustrophobia, fear of enclosed spaces; I felt my whole body grow rigid, my breathing become hoarse and strained as if the air were somehow thicker. The Andalite version of stress management.

__

There is sufficient space, I chanted to myself, trying to calm down my nerves and feeling embarrassed that a tight space was enough to make me hallucinate. _There is sufficient air._

The second thing I noticed before me, that I didn't even see until perhaps a minute had passed from my determined chanting, was that there was some sort of creature before me – brown-furred, so it was hardly distinguishable from the earth all around. Its dark beady eyes – two of them – that gazed right through me. Its most obvious weapon were the claws growing from the end of its arms that reached down easily to the its thick, muscled ankles – just concealed behind those wicked spurs were strong fingers that hung curled in a fist. The species reminded me vaguely of a rodent.

"Aagraah!" the mole-creature grunt-screamed, lifting a claw and pointing it at me. The length of the appendage was so large that the point nearly stabbed me in the stomach, though the creature was quite some distance away. "Aagraah!"

I backed away a step and felt Cassie get to her feet, quickened by the sound of the harsh grunts.

"Oh my god," she murmured as her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness in the tunnel, only very dimly lit by glowing stones studded into the sides of the walls like radioactive crystals. "What…?"

"Aagraah!" the creature screamed again, this time taking another step forward and brandishing the other claw threateningly.

I lifted up my arms and held them before me, signaling I meant no harm, and prayed that the translator chip implanted into my head would make sense of what this creature was saying. But for some reason, the chip would not do what it was created to do – I heard a murmur of static on my head, and realized that it might have been distorted or damaged somewhat by the time-and-space warp that the Ellimist had so thoughtfully allowed us to endure.

Peace! I said soothingly into the creature's mind, knowing that it would understand even as I didn't know its words. Thought-speak knew not the bounds of language. We mean no harm! I cannot understand you.

The creature again shrieked – the same sound that it had said three times before. I wondered whether its species had yet encountered evolution, but my theory of their primitive ways was quickly banished as I spotted a brightly glowing computer console behind it.

"Aagraah!" the creature repeated savagely, but now its words were accompanied by a forward dash.

Its speed was incredible! So fluidly powerful, so very feline! I had a moment to admire before I realized belatedly that the creature was attacking _me_, and with the trained speed of someone that was needed and precious to the rise of technology and therefore could not be killed, I sidestepped and slammed the flat of my tail blade against the side of the creature's head.

__

Excellent, Ankulei, I thought to myself proudly, as the creature toppled to the ground, its claws burying with shocking easiness into the ground. _You did well…_

And then I felt the fixed hum of the translator chip correctly functioning, and beginning to easily translate the word that it had witnessed four times.

Then – and only _then_ – did I feel the pain that lanced up my entire side. I stared in surprise as a two-inch-deep lash that stretched from my torso's waist to the end of my hindquarters began to slit open, spilling body fluids onto the ground.

Cassie screamed again, an almost inarticulate word: "Demorph!"

Demorph? But I was already in my body!

My mind was racing; the morphs I had acquired were unreachable through my frantic state.

I did the only thing I could think of doing, the one last-defense single-time trick that Fradulan had told me only to use in emergencies – just as I buckled to the ground in the throes of my injury, I flicked my tail blade out to the unconscious form and acquired it.

Ebony dimmed my vision; I quickly tried to focus on the creature, on its rodent-like features and massive claws, again paying no attention to how the image came and allowing the DNA to flow and take control.

Moments later, I was on the ground of the tunnel, my claws dipping through the soil as easily as if it were mist and I was merely reaching through it. I trembled and braced myself for the onslaught of instincts, but felt nothing except perhaps a strong will behind my mind.

"Are you alright?" Cassie asked frantically, touching my loricate back with her fingers. I almost felt like laughing. Impossible that I had once envied those pitiful human arms – as I struggled to my feet, trying not to plow up the dirt on the ground, I felt the awesome strength of these new arms, the acute sides of my new claws. I swiped one through the air experimentally – so easy, so sharp. I felt as if I was cutting open the air itself.

And I felt so at home amongst the tunnels that I had disliked as an Andalite. I stepped forward, felt my muscles coil in my legs, and flexed my dexterous non-bladed fingers, moving them along the foreign "keyboard" of the computer console. They were so sensitive! I twitched my semi-long muzzle and caught whiffs of smells that I had missed entirely as an Andalite – the moisture of the soil all around me, the supple, solid scent of Cassie, more of this species moving through a nearby tunnel. My ears perceived every sound, vibrated as they caught each one, as if the sounds emitted a bit of force when they were made.

I was nearly blind…but oh, how I could see! I knew everything that was happening the mere instant it transpired. I walked closer, towards the keyboard, and now saw the significance of the brightly glowing foreign lettering – I was unable to see colors and make the slightest distinction from one thing and another with my poor vision. But the light…I could see that. The silhouettes of figures covering the light made it easy to read.

"Um…Anku? Ankulei? Are you alright?"

I attempted to speak, but all that issued from my mouth was a harsh murmur. I remembered the word that the mole-creature had screamed, and tried to recall what the chip had said it was. I was not paying attention.

My single heart stopped beating as soon as I remembered.

"Anku?" Cassie asked again. "Are you over the morph?"

Cassie! I cried out incredulously in thought-speak. Cassie!

"What's wrong?" Cassie demanded, confused.

The word that the mole-creature referred me to – it means – he said…he called me _Kelbrid_!

I was bewildered. I was _more_ than bewildered. How could the mole-creature have called me a _Kelbrid_? That revealed at least that _they_ were not _Kelbrid_…but if they were not, then who _was_?

My left ear perked and trembled violently as I caught the noise of someone coming down the corridor-tunnel. I quickly moved my claw and gestured at the unconscious creature, careful to keep in control of the movement.

Quick! Acquire it!

"Why?"

Someone is coming!

She kneeled down by the creature and seemed to hesitate. But only for a moment – she pressed her fingers against the damp, hairy hide and I felt her concentrate on the image of the creature.

Hurry! I urged, scenting that he was growing closer. She nodded, frowning slightly, and began to morph. I realized my mistake as soon as I realized the clarity of the senses of my morph, and heard Cassie's transfiguration. The noise of her insides contorting, the fur growing on her skin, was so loud it seemed as if someone had placed an amplification device to them and then embedded it into my brain. Surely if it was that loud to _me_, the others would be able to hear it as well!

"_What is going on here?_" he demanded as soon as he stomped down the hall, looking back and forth between the two of his kind now before him. He didn't seem to sense the unconscious one on the floor, which was a good thing. "_Slahara, you are to be working the computer!"_

His words were strangely, perfectly comprehensible to my ears, and even as I thought the words I wished to speak my mouth spoke them, in the weird grunting tone of this species.

"_I apologize!"_ I replied sincerely, hoping that he would not notice that Cassie was of the same scent as I. "_I was distracted."_

He seemed to accept this explanation, and glanced at the computer, his body signs speaking of thoughtfulness.

"_Well, do not do it again,"_ he grunted finally, tapping the computer gently with the back of his hand. "_Gorun sent me down to tell you to tap into the Kelbrid harddrive and see if they have any information about a set of humans. They were found and subdued earlier, and sent to Track 12, Sector 16-A."_

He seemed to find this bit of information particularly disturbing, so I shuddered and hoped that this was proper response.

"_That is awful,"_ I replied.

"_Yes,"_ he agreed with a shudder himself. He glanced at the morphed Cassie behind me. "_Who are you?"_

"She is…a temporary assistant," I explained haltingly. _"_Y_es…I have been encountering trouble with the computer – I think the last hack that transpired prior to this moment somehow transferred a virus onto the harddrive."_

He narrowed his eyes and grunted repetitively, and I was struck with fear at the awful noise – but then realized that it was chuckling.

"_Heheheh. I love your Kelbrid impersonations," _he snickered. "_You sound just like them, with all of their confusing terms and words. Well, get going."_

"_Of course."_

He walked away, swaggering oddly. As soon as I could no longer hear him, I turned to Cassie, who was looking, much to my surprise, immensely sickened.

I just acquired a sentient creature, she said, as if accusing me.

I know, I agreed, confused. I turned back to the keyboard and worked at figuring out the symbols, reclining my surprisingly skillful claws back so they wouldn't smash against the keyboard. Is there a problem?

We should have asked.

I don't understand.

Sentient creatures…you should ask. I mean…they live, they think. Just like us. We should just…it's right to ask.

When we could not understand, and when we could not take a response? I replied, staring fixedly at the keyboard and allowing the translator chip to do its work. I had a very advanced version, an advantage to being _decol_ – it could decipher text and numbers as easily as spoken speech. I changed the subject, as I felt that the current topic was making Cassie uncomfortable. I believe hacking into the _Kelbrid_ harddrive would be a good idea. Do you agree?

I began typing on the keyboard, marveling at how far this species had come. Humans had still not advanced to this technology! And yet these creatures lived far beyond the caress of sun, underground. Strange. But not as strange as humans.

Behind me I still mentally felt Cassie fuming at me, so I attempted to evaporate her ill nature. It would not be good if we were not amiable and had to work on the same assignment…mission…quest…whatever.

I am sorry that it had to happen.

No response.

Cassie, I believe that we should at least be on friendly terms. Later, I promise that we will attempt to make it up to this species.

Mmmm, Cassie said, the emotions in that wordless sound incomprehensible.

We stood silently as I continued to make myself familiar to the computer, and learned information about this species via their stored databases. They called themselves the Gyuren, and had once lived on the surface. But then a large asteroid had struck their planet, sending its rotation off. In fact, the planet no longer rotated at all – it merely stayed in its orbit, drifting nearer and closer to its sun, which was a bi-system of two stars rotating about each other. The planet was caught by both forces of gravity and spun in an awkward and unreliable figure eight in Earth's Arabic number formations, but apparently there was a precise era when the planet was either unnaturally attracted to both stars – causing a season labeled the Gyuren word "Fire" – and unnaturally repelled, causing a season labeled "Ice." Between both was an interval of "Neutral," a balanced time.

Most of the earliest population had been killed when immense cold and immense heat swept repetitively over the planet. Finally, during the period of Neutrality, the Gyuren had managed to make a small underground town just when the time of Flame came, and when Neutrality came again they did not wish to come out from their dens to experience the time of Ice.

So they continued living underground. The roots of plants that grew above the earth, plants that could somehow stand the immense temperatures, provided food. Groundwater pooled constantly from glaciers created during Ice that melted during Flame. Rocks that were mined from deep underground provided light, and as I read further, I realized that the rocks must have been radioactive, supporting their evolution from land-dweller to…underland-dweller. They were not primitive, but not advanced either. Computers were commonly owned, but of course the most high-tech belonged to those of high rank – just like other cultures, where the highest on the hierarchy received the best. Apparently, their civilizations spread almost throughout the planet, unhindered by any opponent race.

Truly a remarkable species.

I took careful notice of the next temperature period to hit the planet, and what temperature it was currently – Neutral. We had been lucky, though I must admit now that I did not believe in the theory of "luck." We could perhaps survey the aboveground environment, if it was safe, to take better assessment of our surroundings, exactly _where_ we were. Most likely the _Kelbrid_ and Aximili were on the surface as well…though I could not think of a device that could evade the warmth of a sun or cold of a non-sun. It was logical that they would not go underground, where these powerful Gyuren took den, and seemed to dislike the _Kelbrid_ very greatly.

I took note of the times of the seasons and the current time, and then proceeded to hack into the _Kelbrid_ harddrive – no hard task, even to an Andalite with my somewhat stunted caliber of technological knowledge.

I'm in, I told Cassie. I am now searching for data that relates to five humans.

Five? That could probably be Jake and the others.

Most certainly it will be, I agreed, my four fingers deftly pressing against the keys. I scrolled through the directories and memory, which were strangely filled with almost-empty files. Individually they made sense, but together I could find no connection between them.

I was immediately suspicious. There was once a story, a myth told to Andalite children on my home world, that spoke of an antagonist that set up a false harddrive that the protagonists repeatedly tapped into to take information from. Of course, the information on the harddrive had been set up, _meant_ to be hacked…so that the protagonists would ergo receive false information.

I strongly believed that this was the case in this situation.

Cassie, I believe that the information on this database is bait, I said grimly.

What? What do you mean it's bait?

I believe that the information on this harddrive is placed for the purpose of misleading anyone who would wish to hack into the files.

What? Oh…_oh_. I see what you mean.

Yes.

So…so then, what are we going to do now? Cassie asked. I turned to "look" at her with my weak Gyuren eyesight.

I have no idea, I told her. I had never been much of a leader – I was one quite happy to follow instructions, so long as they seemed reasonable. Apparently, Cassie was no leader either, as she seemed disheartened by my reply.

We stood around awkwardly for a moment, both hoping that we would not get into any sort of trouble, and finally I remembered what the Gyuren that we had met earlier had said.

The prisoners…he said earlier that they…were brought into the Track… I started. They are most likely the rescue squad – if we free them, perhaps we can continue to save Aximili and leave this planet. I believe that I can locate the Track and Sector via this console.

Um…great. I guess, Cassie said, shrugging her Gyuren shoulders, at loss for words to make an appropriate reply.

But we must hurry, I continued, my fingers tapping deftly against the keyboard.

Why?

I have done momentary research on this planet, I explained. Its orbit was long ago disrupted, and its revolution varies between what these people, the Gyuren, believe are three different 'seasons.' They are, comparatively translated, as Flame, Ice, and Neutrality, and they are distinguished by how this planet veers towards or away the sun. We are currently in Neutrality, but the season will change to Flame in three Earth days.

I allowed Cassie to digest this.

Wait a minute, she began incredulously. You mean…the whole planet will incinerate…in _three days_?

No. I am saying that the surface of this planet will incinerate, I said patiently. Obviously, the underground settlements of the Gyuren are safe. But if the rescue crew even has any of the equipment they used as transport here, we could perhaps repair it and use it to escape.

It always comes down to a life-and-death situation, doesn't it?

I don't understand.

Nevermind.


	11. For Want of Explanation l Jake

Notes:

--Finally, Jake!

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 11

Jake

By Aura Kage

I didn't have an idea of how it happened. Hell, I didn't have an idea of _what_ had happened.

All I knew was that I woke up to the glare of a bright light perched underneath a dome, faced right at my head. I blinked away the spots in my eyes and looked around, wondering…what had happened? Where was I? Where was the _Rachel_? Had she been…destroyed? Entirely? As in, beyond fixing?

I groaned and tried to move, but was quickly restrained by something coarse binding my neck, arms, legs, and stomach. I froze, and dread filtered into my sluggish thoughts, quickly clearing away anything else.

The word "Nesk" – the fish-people that we, the original Animorphs, had found so long ago – flashed into my mind. Was I…was I on some operating table? My head was too restricted to see, to look around.

I heard a rough grumbling behind me, so gruff that I could swear my ears cringed.

Then, immediately, something looked at me. Just looked at me, its dark, beady little eyes glittering. It was…a rat! Or a mole! With claws like swords attached to its hands!

It spoke to another in the room, and I heard a reply. The sounds – I could hardly distinguish one sound from another. But I knew that they were words. I mean, obviously I knew, but still some part of my brain wondered – how could these…sounds…be actual _words?_ Actual, coherent words?

One of the moles lifted its claw and brought it down over my chest, and I exhaled as the blade-claw neared my skin. Was it going…to operate me? No way. Not again. Death couldn't be this repetitive.

But no. It merely traced something of a triangle, then lifted its claw and looked at me expectantly.

What was I supposed to do?

"Uh…" I said lamely. Oh, great. Nice reaction, there, Jake. "Um, I'm Jake. Who are you?"

The mole-thing gave an exclamation and looked towards its partner, who moved over to where he was in view as well. Their surly "words" were pretty inexpressive, but I was (somewhat) sure it was exclamation they were voicing.

Oh, look! The strange creature speaks!

One of the moles began jabbering to me excitedly, but I gave him a confused look and he fell silent. Maybe he was capable of reading human expressions. Hah, yeah right. Maybe he just saw that I wasn't understanding.

I struggled against the bed pointedly, seeing what the moles' reaction would be, and they backed away uneasily, looking back and forth between themselves and me, talking. I didn't understand any of it, but I was also pretty sure that the conversation wandered along the lines of: "It doesn't have any physical weapons! It must have something even more powerful in store to fend off enemies! We must be cautious!"

I stopped struggling, seeing that they wouldn't free me. Great. Just…just, great.

I wondered what had happened with Marco and all the others. Were they alright? Had they been caught like me? Had they…had they even survived the dispatched escape pod?

Please, please say they did. They _had_ to. If they didn't…

Great. A failure already, and we haven't really even gotten to the life-threatening rescue yet.

But wait…could _these_…were these mole-things actually the _Kelbrid_?

My blood ran cold. No, they couldn't be…but then again, if they _were_, then that would at least tell me that Ax was somewhere around here. I could probably even escape this stupid table, just morph into tiger or rhinoceros…

That is, assuming that the moles were too shocked by my transition not to react. Morphing would mean that I would be caught in helplessness in the middle of the morph, and I didn't want to see what those claws could do.

Nothing to do except wait. Wait, and hope for a miracle.

In other words, I was stuck.

I sighed in exasperation and relaxed – or at least, tried to relax. The moles didn't seem to be very hostile, at least. Then again, if they were, then I would have probably been dead by now, not stuck on some operating table with a lamp stuck in front of my face.

Wait…how could they have picked me up and tied me up if they had hands like _that_?

Before I had a chance to mull over it, two more of the mole things came in, looking to be out of breath as they hunched over slightly, their torsos inflating wildly. The two in the room turned to them questioningly, and one of the new moles stepped forward and began speaking.

The old moles replied, a tone of confusion in their voice, and the second new mole backed up the first in whatever he/she had been saying, one claw lifting and lowering as if to explain something.

Ah, the wonders of a conversation you can't understand.

Then the mole that had been gesturing looked at me, and its shadowed eyes widened in surprise as it spoke an impulsive word…that I, of course, couldn't understand.

But there was something about that word. Something that sounded a lot like…

"Shuurrkg!" the mole repeated, taking a step towards me. One of the old moles lifted a claw to block her, the voluminous hair behind its neck rising considerably, showing disagreement. The mole that had gestured continued looking at me and shook its head, repeating what she had said.

Wait – how could a mole-thing know _that_ gesture –?

Apparently, this had occurred to the mole-blocking-the-way as well, and he withdrew with a savage snarl and cried out, "Aagraah!"

The new-mole-that-had-spoken-first acted quickly – taking its claw and lifting it above its head, then bringing it down in a deadly but controlled arch into the old mole's head. Then, before the other could react, the attacker-mole sideswiped its claw and slapped it in the stomach, than the head.

They both fell to the floor, limp, most likely to wake up with horrible headaches later.

And the mole…the one that had said the slurred word…began _morphing._

No, no, not morphing, some part of my mind said. _Not _morphing_, you idiot. _De_morphing._

But even having realized this and the further bewilderment it brought, I stared in disbelief as familiar features melted through the fur of the mole-thing with an ease like water – the fur simply dissolved into skin of the equivalent coloring, and suddenly before me stood –

"Ca…_Cassie_?!" I gasped. She rushed over to the table wordlessly, Wolverine claws still diminishing into supple human skin. "How – what – _how_-?"

"Ellimist," she explained in a contemptuous mutter.

Oh, Ellimist. Well, _that_ made a lot of sense.

"The Ellimist?" I said as the cord that bound my neck slipped off, severed by the still-sharp X-men claw. "_He_ brought you here? But…why?"

"For the same reason he brought us to save the Iskoort," she said in an exasperated sigh, slicing the bounds on my right hand. "Listen, though, we have to hurry –"

"Whoa…" disrupted a stunned, but familiar voice from somewhere behind me. The binding on my left wrist was removed; I sat up and looked back at who had spoken, though I had known. "_Whoa._ I'm…I'm strapped to a table." Marco shuddered. "Why do I suddenly experience this horrible feeling of _déjà vu_?"

Cassie looked up suddenly from her work on my leg, looking back at the mole-thing that was standing guard behind her, peering out of the burrow and keeping watch. "Alright," she replied, turning back to her unbinding.

"What?" I said, confused. "Who –?"

"That's Ankulei," Cassie explained hurriedly. "I can say more later, but we have to hurry – she says that someone's coming."

"Uh, alright…whatever you say," I said absentmindedly, as she freed me completely and moved on to Marco, who barked out a laugh as he saw the claws sticking from her knuckles.

"You're Wolverine! No, no, wait – you're _She-_Wolverine. I wonder if –"

"Save it, Marco," Cassie interrupted in a hiss, which surprised him so much that he fell silent. I was surprised myself – Cassie? Hissing? No, no…that was just _wrong_. Cassie wasn't capable of that.

But I would have to save it for thinking about later. I looked around the room, felt my eyes sting at the sudden change from light to darkness. There wasn't _half_ as much light in the room as there had been shining in my face – I couldn't see a thing until my eyes adjusted.

Meanwhile, "Ankulei" had backed away from the "doorway" and was getting to work freeing Santorelli, who was, to my great relief, just awakening as well. Even Jeanne was blinking sleepily, yawning tiredly, and Menderash as well.

Good. Good. We were all here. We were all…

No, no. Where…where was Tobias?

"Aw, man," Marco moaned, sitting up and sliding off the table, rubbing his wrists. "Not the greatest way to wake up."

"Where's Tobias?" I demanded, turning on him with an impatience that was fed by my fear. Marco would know what had happened to him – he was with him, in the escape pod.

__

Please don't tell me he's…

"Oh, Tobias?" Marco said sluggishly, scratching the back of his head. "Tobias…oh, man…" He looked down at his arm for some reason, and frowned at the unmarked skin there. "Tobias…after we landed, I got shot with this…this little dart…and it was poisoned or something, because I blacked out, and I told Tobias to go…go," he finished lamely.

"To go?"

"Yeah, Jake. Go," Marco affirmed. "Didn't want _him_ caught too, you know. He went…I think he went looking for you." He suddenly sniffed, taking a deep breath. "Hey, I can breathe in here."

"What?"

"There's, like, no oxygen outside," Marco explained. "I was just looking around outside of the escape pod, and I couldn't breathe at all."

They are coming! a thought-speak voice said urgently, jarring Marco and me from our conversation. I jumped and felt my heart's five-times-more-than-normal beating, and realized that it must have been the mole-thing.

They were capable of thought-speech? But then why were they talking…

"We have to get out of here!" Cassie echoed. Santorelli looked at her in disbelief.

"You…you can't be…?"

"Where?" I asked – to Cassie. She shrugged helplessly, frantic beyond logical thinking.

"I don't know! Not here! It's too small in here, they'll smell you!"

"What about you?" I asked back – but she began morphing back into the mole-thing, answering my question.

The other mole – Ankulei – walked over to the doorway and stood in it, its dark-furred bulk completely blocking out most of the room, and began speaking with another mole that had apparently come by, trying to distract while we…while we what? Hid? In plain sight?

This mission hadn't even seriously started yet, and we were headed into disaster!

"Under the tables!" I hissed, and everyone immediately complied, dropping to the damp ground and crawling under the wooden tables. I observed offhandedly, as I finished crawling into my makeshift hiding place, that they were not meant to be stationary – wheels were studded into the legs, one to each, and showed that they were meant to be wheeled around.

Wait – wheels? Made out of what? I touched it, and tried to guess the material by the texture – rubber, of something along that line. Rubber? Rubber wheels? But then why wasn't everything _else_ more…more high-tech? For instance, why was the ground…well, ground?

Evidently, the mole soon moved away, for the mole on our side swaggered back inside the room, deadly claws swinging.

I have successfully diverted the Gyuren from this room, said an obviously female voice into our heads – a voice that was too…too, well, _advanced_ for a mole-thing, or at least the mole-things as my first impression had deemed them. You may now remove yourselves from your respective hiding places.

In fact, that voice reminded me a lot of…an Andalite? But how –?

Everyone crawled from under the tables, including me, and I brushed off my jeans and turned to the mole, opening my mouth to ask an explanation.

But she beat me to it.

I am _decol_ Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill, the mole-thing said, proving that she _was_ an Andalite by the all-too-familiar name-structure. I am an experiment under Project Hybrid, led by the Scientist Fradulan-Drisrouth-Semulan, Section Three-Seventeen of the Warith Field. I –

"That's enough," I said hastily, disrupting the morphed Andalite from reciting her entire history. As it was, I couldn't even understand what she was talking about.

She broke off, seeming flustered.

And you are Jake the Yeerk-Killer, previous Prince to presently Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, she said with painstaking formality. I was sent on a mission here to aid in rescuing him – Aximili, that is…or so I believe, though now I doubt that this was my single mission. The rescue crew – which I now assume is the group present excluding Cassie and I – were proclaimed missing at the point of my departure several days ago.

"Days?" Menderash spoke up. "That cannot be the case. It took us several Earth-months to arrive where we are, and it is impossible that you would get here in less."

The Ellimist interfered, "Ankulei" said simply, a tone of frustration in her voice. With the agreement of Cassie and I, he sent us across time and space to the current destination. We have aged the exact amount of time it would have taken for us to arrive here, but it seems to both of us that we were at Earth only yesterday.

"Whoa," Marco remarked. "That's confusing. But trust it to the Ellimist."

"The Ellimist," Jeanne said, words tinted with her crisp French accent, "is the one who took the form of the little blue man and did impossible things, yes?"

Marco smiled at her. "Have I already mentioned that I love your accent?"

We should get going, Cassie muttered, breaking into the conversation. Anku can explain more later, once we're in a safer…more secluded…place.

Who is Anku? Ankulei asked, looking at her. I was not aware that we had an expert whom would further elaborate our situation. That would be very –

"I think she means you," Marco said with a laugh. "You know, 'Anku?' A shorter version of Ankulay-Shoron-Distill?"

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill, Ankulei corrected, but she nodded understandingly. Ah, yes. A nickname. I now understand. I can explain further of the Gyuren and our present situation, but later, as Cassie stated. Follow me – I will attempt to lead you to safer grounds.

So we followed, through the labyrinth of tunnels that weren't exactly small, but weren't exactly tall either. I mean, I could reach up and probably touch the ceiling with my fingers, and if I stretched out my arms to either side I could _just_ graze the walls.

Finally, after what seemed to be hours of searching and finding no secret place, Cassie made a suggestion.

Why don't we just go up?

"No way," Marco declined. "There's no _air_ up there, remember? We'll be replicas of Smurfs in seconds! Well, tall replicas of Smurfs."

"Except you, Marco," I said with a grin. "You'll be a life-sized replica."

"Oh, that hurts, Jake. That really hurts."

No harm in attempting, Anku said, reaching both claws up and digging straight through the surface, which came away as easily as sand. I stared as she easily hopped from the hole, Cassie following with the same ease. Purple – yes, _purple_ – sand was falling to the ground like grainy rain, and a brown hand that had been until now hidden reached down.

The air here's fine, Cassie informed us all. Someone grab my hand – I'll pull you up.

Santorelli was first – he grasped Cassie's dark, short-furred hand and gave an audible gasp as he was heaved up onto the ground. I stared – these things…these _Gyuren_? Well, whatever they were…they were _strong_.

And what had happened to the claws? Were there actually _hands_ underneath them, or were they retractable, like a cat's?

Two more hands came down, and Jeanne and Marco were next, lifted from the hole with the same effortlessness as Santorelli.

Then, me. I snatched the hand that fell down to me, holding it tightly, and Cassie or Anku – I couldn't tell the difference – pulled me up. I blinked dazedly as I forced my eyes to adjust from the slightly-yellow-tinted darkness into the vivid lavender that stained the entire empty landscape, which resembled something of a desert.

An eerily quiet desert. No birds singing. Nothing. Just the sand, distant weird-shaped trees…and a very large sun. Well, large in comparison to the sun on Earth, anyway. I think.

Marco took a deep breath. "I can breathe," he said wonderingly.

I made sure to extract from the underground near a specimen of flora, Anku explained. Perhaps you were too far away from plant life to receive any of the oxygen it expelled. These trees are called Julasara, and they possess some of the same qualities of trees both on my home world and Earth, except they are not flammable and can endure the full ferocity of the sun's rays here.

"Speaking of things that are here…" I said uncomfortably, looking around the various landscape. "Where…_is_ here, anyway?"


	12. The Black Building l Tobias

Notes:

--Short again. ^^;;

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 12

Tobias

By Aura Kage

Oh my god. No. No. _No_. It couldn't be.

It was impossible, that's what it was. Completely, _utterly_ impossible.

But there it was, perched atop the largest slope I had ever seen in my whole life. The completely impossible.

I mean, you'd think that being a boy that was permanently trapped as a hawk with morphing powers in enough. Hell, I have an alien father, a human mother, and an uncle who's my best friend. I fell in love with the most beautiful girl in the world, and by some miracle itself she actually _noticed_ me. You'd think that…_that_ would be enough.

But no.

Apparently not.

But let me back up. I had flown throughout the "night," hardly getting tired at all – for some reason, the more I flew, the more time passed by…the easier it was for my wings to catch some extra thermals, the easier it was for me to scan the planet with my awesome vision. This in itself was strange, as obviously, the more effort you exert into something, the harder it becomes. It's the law.

Not on this world, though. Nope. Tobias was flying around without a care in the world, practically _forced_ into the air by the wonderful thermals I was catching. In fact, it was harder for me to lose altitude than it was to gain it; when I had first tried to lower myself for fear of soaring straight out of the atmosphere, I had only managed to do so by cupping my wings to either side (which not a particularly comfortable act) and allowing myself to _fall_ completely (not a particularly entertaining act. I'm a hawk, not a freaking falcon).

Anyway…the blue sun-moon-whatever had "set," and we were now again in purple land. It was times like these that I wished I had an Andalite with me…you know, to analyze everything and give me a very detailed, if not incomprehensible, description of the logic of this planet. I mean, okay, so I didn't attend much school, being a bird of prey and all, so I wouldn't know if a sun was _supposed_ to be purple, if that was even _possible_.

And that was why Andalites were useful. They were…what? In Calculus by the time they were five?

It was with these battling thoughts that I soared over the endless violet desert, searching for Jake and the others – for anything! – with an almost mindless attention. You'd think that I would be used to strange planets.

Then, there it was. I hadn't even noticed it at first, until the eye-smarting glimmer of reflected light shot into my eyes and startled me so much I nearly fell out of the sky. It was a while before I could see again – the sun's brightness was so _intense_ – and when I did I wasn't sure that I _was_ seeing.

I had a flashback to the Mercora, with their shield-made _everything_. Of course, they were somehow more…elaborate with their shields, and more practical about them, too. This thing…_this_ thing was a structure of multi-layered dome shields, all nested within each other. I mean, this wasn't just one big shield over a smaller shield over a smaller shield and so on and so forth. These things were…_intertwined_. It was hard to say what shape they were _exactly_, except that they seemed _kind of_ like tubes twisting and raveling around each other. Snakes all woven into a single, pointless shape, to where you couldn't tell one snake from another and couldn't tell where one began and one ended.

But they were completely opaque. I couldn't see through them – they shone with the same beetle-luster that the escape pods had emitted, and they were also apparently soundproof, as my raptor hearing couldn't perceive a thing.

Please, _please_ say that…_that_ is where the _Kelbrid_ are, I moaned to myself, circling the perimeters of the structure – at a distance. No telling what kind of weaponry someone could have had in there. _Please._

I continued surveying the place, circling with the same intent as I would have had on potential prey, some rabbit or mouse – except not as a predator, but as the prey. Even if Jake and the others _weren't_ in there, and these _weren't_ the _Kelbrid_…well, it would be nice if I could sight something that could be useful in the future.

But no, nothing. It might as well have been…dead. The hawk in me was dormant with boredom. This thing wasn't moving, breathing, it wasn't doing _anything_ – therefore it wasn't worth any attention. To tell you the truth, I was kind of agreeing with it. But still…I mean, what _else_ did I have to do? This planet, for all _I_ knew, was the size of Jupiter. I could spend days and days looking for Jake and the others, and I would never even get a clue.

Besides, they were probably underground. Underground with those massive _mole_-things…

And what was worse was that the hawk in me was _starving_. It hadn't eaten for what seemed like forever – maybe the last thing I had had in my stomach was a donut, and that was when I was human. Food wasn't usually sustained when in morph – I had to feed my base body first.

Which, lucky me, was a hawk. Which, lucky me, was a _carnivore_. Which, lucky me, cannot handle _anything_ that is not meat.

So much for being helpful.

I finally flew away from the place with a growing feeling of dread. I couldn't find Jake – I would probably perish of starvation before I ever found them.

And my wings…my wings were starting to get tired. I don't know how many hours I had spent just flying around, but even with thermals…well, I would have to land. Try to land, anyway. Had to find a _safe_ place to land, one that wouldn't rouse the moles.

A red-tailed hawk trying to evade moles. _Riiight._ I would _so_ not fit into the crowd now. Haha.

See, this is when you know you've been a bird of prey for too long. You start talking to yourself…and making bad jokes. The horror.

Well, I wasn't going to get anywhere just hanging around up here…and I couldn't keep looking around for Jake. It would take…well, forever. I didn't even know if they were alive.

But if they were alive, and if I found them, then I would at least like to tell them that I had been doing something…something resourceful while I was gone.

And hey, if being resourceful meant that I would have to add "suicidal" to that list, then so be it. It wasn't going to be much of a change from three years ago.

I turned towards the fortress, cupped my wings, and fell towards the building.


	13. Planning l Ankulei

Notes:

--None. ^^;; Just go read!

**The Hybrid Project**

****

Chapter 13

Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill

By Aura Kage

…And we must quickly get away from here in the space of approximately three days, or else risk either staying on this planet for an unwanted, prolonged amount of time, I finished gravely. The humans cluttered around me, sitting down on the rather cool sand, stared.

"Staying on this planet for an unwanted, prolonged amount of time as opposed to what?" the dark-haired human male named Marco asked. There was a bit of strange emotion in his tone of voice, but I could not quite place what it was.

As opposed to staying on this planet forever.

"Ah. I see! It all makes sense now!" Marco cried, standing up and waving his considerably strong human arms about. He continued to flail his arms, gesturing wildly. "See, obviously, Crayak is up to something here. And the Ellimist, obviously, wants us to stop him, in his own bizarre, twisted kind of way. And, obviously, we _do_ have to stop Crayak, because whatever Crayak's doing has _something_ to do with us, because otherwise the Ellimist obviously wouldn't have called us on this stupid mission in the first place because we wouldn't have cared about this stupid mole-ridden planet! I mean, _obviously_, right?"

Everyone blinked slowly.

"Err…I'm confused," another human, Santorelli, stated.

Humans seem to be confused quite easily, I agreed, nodding my Gyuren head. I was nearing the time limit – I would soon have to demorph, or risk being trapped in this body forever. Obviously, I did not wish this to happen, so I demorphed.

"And to add to our problems," Jake said, "there's still Ax. Ax _and_ Tobias. We don't have a clue where they could be, or if they're…well, you know. Dead."

And according to my collected data from this place, I believe that some type of war or battle might break out, I said, continuing my speculation upon the fact that the _Kelbrid_ had faked their harddrive. Or, at least, that there is some sort of very great dispute between the Gyuren and the _Kelbrid._

"We don't even know who the _Kelbrid are_," Menderash growled. "For all we know, they could be _listening_ into this very conversation. They could be in the _air_ around us. They could be _one_ of us."

There was a moment of silence in which the humans exchanged glances all around with their fellows. Poor, paranoid species.

I think it would be impossible that we would be one of the _Kelbrid_, I said, stating my opinion to assure the group. We have, afterall, not suffered any sort of damage…unless we were _Kelbrid_ before we came here, or some event transpired that I do not know about.

"You seem to be _ve-ry_ sure of yourself," Marco said, narrowing his eyes at me. I was taken aback. This human – suspected me? Why? Had I done some conspicuous thing?

I am _not_ a _Kelbrid_, I told him hotly. Had I been one, surely I would have been able to kill you all by this point using the Gyuren morph, or even one of my many own acquired morphs! Or perhaps a crossbreed morph. I have in the past attempted a particularly dangerous cross that included the _chorra, _the _phlerryl_, and the particularly bizarre creature from a planet in your very own solar system located on the planet you call Saturn. If I were to again morph into all of those, I would be armed with poison, flight, flame, and a very considerable amount of blades mounted on my body, as well as great strength and senses. You would have little chance to escape.

"Alright!" Marco yelled. "I get it, I get it. Good grief, it was just _sarcasm_."

"Don't you remember? Andalites don't know much about that wonderful human trait," Cassie said dryly.

Marco rolled his eyes. "A world without sarcasm…what's this immensely large universe coming to? I mean, it's enough that…oh, nevermind. I'm tired of saying it."

"What we need to know," Jake said pointedly, rubbing his hands together, "is what we're going to do from here. Okay, Ax and Tobias are go…I mean, not here presently. We are all capable of some sort of battle morph…well, except Menderash, but he can come in later, with all of the technical stuff. As far as we know, the Gyuren or whatever aren't our enemies, and we probably don't _want_ them to be our enemies, either. We still don't know who or what the _Kelbrid_ are. We are basically and literally a group of people – and aliens – on a foreign planet with nothing to do. Any suggestions?"

We find the ships you used to land here in the first place, I said matter-of-factly. Jake winced.

"Um…yeah, we could do that. Except…"

"Except what?" Cassie prodded.

"Except they weren't exactly _ships_," Santorelli explained. "The _Rachel_ – the actual ship that we used to get here in the first place…she was attacked by the Bladeship. We escaped via escape pods."

"And those are not capable of flight," Menderash stated pointedly. "Even if we somehow fitted it with some sort of booster or engine, they are not physically adapted to flying. They are much too large, much too heavy. The anatomy's just all wrong."

"So…so we're stuck here?" Jeanne said bleakly, crestfallen.

"Not exactly," Cassie said, tilting her head slightly and looking skyward, thinking. "You said that the _Rachel_ was attacked, afterall, by the Bladeship. And the Gyuren mentioned the _Kelbrid_ as well, so it's most likely that the _Kelbrid_ are here. And if they are, they're probably capable of space-flight."

"So all we need to do is find out where they keep the big boys and do a little destructive baby-sitting," Marco said cheerfully. "You know, literally."

"It's not that easy," Santorelli pointed out. "We don't even know where these _Kelbrid_ _are_, much less what they're capable of. I say that Cassie and the Andalite do some more –"

"Anku," Cassie disrupted in a mutter.

"Excuse me?" Santorelli looked at the human confusedly. "What…what did you say?"

"I said, _Anku_," she said, her voice rising bitterly. "'The Andalite' has a name, and it's Ankulei, Anku for short."

There was another period of silence in which all eyes were trained on Cassie – including all four of mine, as I deemed the landscape too harmless to watch over. Apparently, this was a strange thing for Cassie to say, somehow, but I could not see why. However, I was very glad that she had rose to my defense when the human had called me merely "the Andalite" and refused to acknowledge that I was an individual.

Oh! Now I understood Cassie's anger. It had to do with the Alienists that had assaulted me in the space between buildings yesterday on Earth. I understood that though we had quite a large problem presently, others were still transpiring elsewhere; and was painfully aware that Fradulan was most likely going mad back on my own homeworld, searching for his _decol_.

"Cassie…" Jake said, concern clear in his voice. "Cassie, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's _wrong_?" Cassie stood up suddenly, her expression and words ablaze with fury and anger and rage that had been penned up in her store of emotions for far too long. "What's _wrong_?! I tell you what's _wrong_! What's _wrong_ is that I have _had_ my share of ignorant people who don't give aliens an ounce of respect or decency, Jake! What's _wrong_ is that there are people down there who trap morphed Andalites until they become a _nothlit_! A _nothlit_! They trap them, keep them for two hours, and if they try to demorph then they get _killed_! _Killed_!

"And even worse with the Hork-Bajir! Do you know what people _do_? They – they _murder_ them, murder them in their own homes! And then you know what? They take a nice big knife and _rip_ away all of their blades, their _body parts_, Jake! They take them and sell them on the black market!"

"Whoa, Cassie…" Marco murmured quietly from the side. "God, take a chill pill…"

"I will _not_ take a 'chill pill,' and you just _shut up_, Marco!" Cassie screamed, turning on him. Marco flushed in embarrassment and seemed to cower at Cassie's ill-concealed rage. "You've had it nice and easy ever since the war ended, haven't you? Writing books, hanging out with your hot girls from the cover of…of magazines! Being a millionaire, right? Well, guess what? It hasn't been all that easy for _me_, alright?! ALRIGHT?! _I've_ had to make sure the damn Anti-Alienists down there don't kill off the Andalites and Hork-Bajir, and _you know what_? I. Have. _No_. Help. At. ALL. Does the President care what her Representative-for-Who-Cares-Whatever does? No, of course not. Does Ronnie, great Governor-of-Whatever, care about what happens? No, of course not. Does the _world_ care that eventually all this prejudice will just grow and grow and grow, and soon the Andalites will get angry and release the stupid Quantum Virus and kill us all? NO, OF COURSE NOT!"

"Cassie," Jake said in a low, soothing voice, standing up carefully and approaching her with the care and tentativeness one would take with a wild animal, arms outstretched. "Cassie, calm down."

Cassie opened her mouth for another angry retort, but by now her voice was hoarse and worn from screaming – she clenched her fists and looked away, tears running down her face, and Jake embraced her gently, stroking her hair and eventually leading her away to the far side of the Julasara tree – which was actually quite large, despite the fact it was merely a tree.

I glanced at Marco with one stalk eye – he was standing there, dazed, frowning sullenly and obviously wondering what was wrong. There was another awkward interval of silent looks and uneasiness.

There have been ordeals on Earth that, I am sure, have been extremely difficult for Cassie to pass, I informed them. These Anti-Alienists she speaks of caught me, and they attempted and almost successfully trapped me in a human morph. Had it not been for Cassie, I would have probably been killed.

That was true. Had she not appeared just after I finished demorphing, the Anti-Alienists would have most likely come back and shot me with their primitive, yet lethal, artillery.

Menderash, who I now knew used to be an Andalite himself, looked completely appalled and disgusted and enraged. "That is horrible," he spat. "And surely she is correct – the Andalite high-command would have most likely carried out some sort of revenge against these humans that take our technology and use it against us."

The humans that were actually present had nothing to say to _that_, but they did seem rather affronted and humiliated. I do not blame them. I still feel for the Hork-Bajir lives that were taken by the Quantum Virus…

Not all are evil, I said gently. There were several that helped me on my travels on Earth, and they were quite courteous. Afterall, the actions of some do not represent the actions of all.

"And boy do we know _that_," Marco said half-heartedly, giving a mirthless chuckle. "God, there are still some that blame Americans for what happened during the 1860's."

And what happened during the 1860's? I asked politely.

He opened his mouth to answer, then thought better of it and shook his head. "Nah, you don't want to know. But…it was really bad. And it involved a difference outside that lots of people didn't approve of."

Humans are very non-tolerant of things that are different, I agreed, and again felt that I had insulted them again. I gave an Andalite frown. I am sorry, I did not mean –

"No, no, you're absolutely right," Santorelli said. "One of my ancestors, a great-great-great-however-many grandfather was actually in the Civil War."

You fight wars amongst yourselves? I asked incredulously.

"Well, actually…" Santorelli frowned uncomfortably. "Marco's right. You don't want to know about it."

And I felt that I agreed with them.

~

When Cassie came back to the group, she seemed much more composed, though her eyes were still tinged red from her tears. She also seemed very…relieved. I'm sure that she had been wanting to release those words from her mind for quite a while, and though this wasn't exactly the most convenient place nor time to do so, the outburst had come all the same.

And it was better when emotions didn't interfere in thoughts. They usually muddled up logic. Not that I was cold-hearted. I have my share of emotional turmoil myself.

"Anyway, we've still got to figure out what to do," Jake said bleakly, looking around and seeming only very slightly fazed by the prior events. "Any…any suggestions?"

There was no response. Even I was lost for words. What _were_ we going to do? There seemed to be no open options.

"Well, you know, since all the sane choices are gone," Marco pointed out, "we can go in."

"In?"

"In. You know, _in_sane. As in, do something so completely strange and weird and stupid that it would somehow, in a very remote and significant way, actually be the right thing to do," Marco explained.

"Uh…right."

"So, then, what is this insane thing that we must do that must qualify as so insane it will work?" Jeanne asked naively. I looked at her through the peripheral vision of one of my stalk eyes – there was something about her that I disliked very, very much…but I could not explain what it was. Perhaps it was the way she so frequently glanced at me with dark eyes; I wondered for a moment of she was "Alienist," then became logical and realized that she could not be, if she were on this team. Most likely it was only that she was daunted by me; it seemed not a lot of humans had before actually met Andalites, though they were educated of them by "movies."

"Well, see," Marco started tentatively. "These Gyuren…obviously, they hate the _Kelbrid._ And if we said that we hated them too, and we could somehow prove that we are _not_ the _Kelbrid_, and if we could show them what awesome super-powers we have…well, you figure out the rest."

"An alliance," Santorelli said, nodding. "I like the idea. But how…are we going to do it? I mean, they _know_ that we're missing. They're probably looking for us right now."

"That is incorrect. They are not looking for you right now," said a gruff voice behind us. I was the quickest to turn, blade at ready – but before I could even blink or react or think some coherent thought, a brown blur snatched it in a deadly grasp, tightening my tail in an extremely painful hold. And before any of the others could do anything, they had been caught as well.

"They are not looking for you right now," the speaker repeated, stepping up to the center of the custody-taken…the custody-taken _us_ and glaring defiantly at all with dark eyes. He was wearing a band around his forehead and upper arms, which looked to be – even in the distorted light – a metallic cerulean blue. "They have found you."


	14. Chamber of the Glyph l Jake

Notes:

--Rewritten for easier digestion. :3

--…I can't figure out how to get the brackets to work anymore, so now thought-speech is encased in (parentheses). Yay.

--This is especially dedicated to Mysti, who totally brightened up my day after I read her review and made me realize that I still had this fanfiction alive and unfinished. Thank you very, very much!

--...unfortunately, it's been FOREVER since I've been writing this, much less reading the books – so if anyone sees any inconsistencies within the fic itself or related to Applegate's works, please don't hesitate to point them out. Thanks!

**The Hybrid Project**

**Chapter 14**

**Jake**

By Aura Kage

"Bring them down," the blue-banded Gyuren instructed gruffly, motioning to the ground that had been earlier broken when we had emerged from the world of the moles. As the Gyuren moved forward, with us grasped firmly in grubby fingers and held about two inches off the ground, the blue-band added, "Keep your footing even and don't hurt them, either."

_Well, at least he doesn't want to hurt us. That's a good sign, right?_

The Gyuren obliged, carefully moving their claws so they were positioned completely linear from their hands, far away from us. One by one we were brought back down into those dark tunnels, and I suppressed a yelp as the Gyuren that had custody of me hopped into the hole with the ease of a big cat and the sensation of falling caught me off guard.

Anku was last – the blue-band himself enlarged the hole in the ground for her, somehow keeping the sand from filling up the hole as the Gyuren that held her tail blade rudely shoved her in. Blue-Band hissed at him reprovingly, and the Gyuren gave something of a whimper and held his head in embarrassment.

Okay…that was strange. How come I had been able to understand Blue-Band earlier, but not when he had been chastising the Gyuren? In fact, how could Blue-Band speak coherently in the _first _place? No one on this planet should be able to speak English unless they had had contact with humans somehow…

A cold thought struck me. Of course – the Yeerks, the ones who had escaped, had some here. What if…what if we had finally been caught, and these were the Yeerks in morph?

But no – they would have killed us outright, not made an effort to keep from injuring us.

The Gyuren led us through the maze of their small tunnels, and again I tried to memorize the path and gave up just a few minutes after we started. I could hardly see anything anyway…and if we managed somehow to break away from the Gyuren, we could easily go bat and escape.

But – no, not _we_. Menderash had no such ability to turn into a bat, and I wasn't sure about Anku…she would probably have a morph that could see in the dark, but I probably couldn't trust more about it. And after Cassie's outburst, I'd have to be a little bit more careful about how I treated our new Andalite friend…

God, she must have been _really_ ticked by what she saw. But knowing Cassie…and knowing what she had witnessed…I guess I would have been that angry too.

I guess.

Blue-Band finally stopped and turned around, lifting a hand to signal the Gyuren holding us to stop. He spoke again, and I strained to hear anything of groan in his voice, but there was nothing.

"Stop. Everything will be revealed in a few moments, if you will please respect our customs and keep good behavior here."

"What, no making out?" Marco, of course. Several glares went in his direction, including Blue-Band's, and he resumed speaking in a lower, more tolerant voice.

"I would advise that you don't," he said curtly, turning back behind him. I realized now that the tunnel had long since faded away – well, at least, the _dirt_ in the tunnel. Now the sides and ceiling of the cave were paved with a smooth, formless but sharp-edged tessellation that melted into a thick bar that curved from the bottom of the cave and arced over the mouth.

In the room past the door, something gleamed a very mystical, very…eye-smarting lavender.

It was so…familiar. Something about it that made my insides shiver; I looked to Cassie, but her eyes were closed, feeling it out, brow furrowed. Her eyes opened, and she looked back. Did she feel it too?

"This is the Chamber of the Glyph, a sacred place to us," Blue-Band whispered as he walked into the room, beckoning the Gyuren holding us captive to follow. "Just as I would not disturb your beliefs, you must not disturb our own. Keep your tongue quiet of its insults, human."

Marco opened his mouth to give another smart reply, and Blue-Band watched him expectantly. Then he closed his mouth and nodded, giving a slight shrug.

The Gyuren nodded himself, and then proceeded further into the room, where the source of the emanating glow was revealed.

A massive purple crystal hovered in midair, between two short cylinders in the ceiling and floor that crackled occasionally with what looked to be violet electricity. The whole place was paved in the glow, the soft aura of tranquillity and sense of one-ness, of spirituality – all at once it seemed that all my troubles had faded, been pushed to the back of my mind, where I felt they would never be uncovered again. I sighed in relief and bliss, my dimmer logical thoughts wondering how stupid my action had seemed, but then I realized that all of those that had entered had given some sign of relaxation as well.

And then, Anku's demand, softened by the same dreaminess that had taken all of us: (Who are you?)

"I am Dawlarson," Blue-Band replied, approaching the floating gem at the far end of the room while we trailed behind. It was massive – it was probably the size of a Gyuren itself, which was easily a few inches over six feet. And it also looked wide – Cassie and I, positioned on opposite sides, could probably hug either side of it and never be able to touch fingers.

What had Dawlarson called it? A glyph? Or Glyph, capitalized?

"It, as you have probably noticed, emits a sense of peace," Dawlarson continued, stopping his swagger-like walk just before the floor cylinder, which rested on a sort of intricately decorated pedestal. He touched his hand against something, the claw retracted so that it almost touched against his cheek, and he pressed his hand down on a flat area. Immediately the glyph flickered, the light fading a bit, and the Gyuren that were holding us exchanged wary glances.

But then the light returned, and this time with a very distinct difference – the semi-flat front of the crystal had now been brought to life in hazy images, colored with something other than the purple that I had seen too much. Dawlarson closed his eyes and tilted his head back somewhat, and the images came to more clarity – and now I could see what they were depicting. It was a very clear picture of him and the rest of the Gyuren approaching our unwary group of human and Andalite, listening in to our conversation from afar, without us even noticing. They had then dived down and continued coming, silently, from underground…and that was how they had taken up by surprise.

"I do know that you mean no harm to us by our eavesdropping," Dawlarson murmured absently, lowering his head a little and halfway opening his eyes, so he looked sleepy. "You in fact had a plan to ally with us, using our loathing for the disreputable Aagraah – whom you call _Kelbrid – _as the point for your alliance."

He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so I gave it to him, being the leader and all. "Yeah, we were."

Dawlarson nodded and moved his hand over a bit, turning to the screen of the crystal and giving a great sigh of inarticulate emotions. "Yes, I know. But you, evil form-stealers, cannot be trusted by our kind. You own the same powers of the Aagraah, whom we despise for this fact, for we are all born into our bodies and they must be kept."

"We don't steal bodies," Santorelli argued. "We just take a sample of DNA – that's like the structure, a blue print of a body. And with the amount we take, that _tiny_ amount, we don't hurt anyone."

"You," Dawlarson said, "have not been attacked by your own littermates. Your own dam and sire, your own _self_."

I frowned. "Don't be so sure."

He looked at me. His eyes were dark.

"So," Marco continued, clearing his throat and rubbing his hands together, "hate to break up all this deep reminiscing, but…the Kelbrid…the Aagraah. Obviously you don't like them, and we don't like them either – at least not right now – so let's just set our noses down to the grind, get it done, and get started home. I have deadlines to meet, you know."

"And just how, Marco," Cassie asked, with something very close to a sardonic tone, "_do _you plan to get home? Nose-grinding aside."

"Goodness, Cassie. Sarcasm?" Marco said with a sort of fake awe; but then his own sarcasm faded, and he frowned. "That's right. Dawlarson, you wouldn't happen to have a few ships capable of space-flight lying around, would you? You know, that we could use later, after we kick a few Kelbrid butts."

The strange deep stare again. "We were once equipped with such technology. But it was lost in the First Tragedy."

"It…what?" Marco said, shocked.

(Lost technology?) Anku echoed with similar confusion. (But was not this 'First Tragedy' the asteroid that struck this world ages ago? How could your species have adapted to the seasonal environmental changes without ages in which to acclimate? And how could it have not re-developed that lost technology within those ages?)

If Dawlarson was surprised that an alien knew this portion of his history, he didn't show it. "That was the Second Tragedy," he corrected.

(Please explain.)

"The Second Tragedy is as you describe. However, in the First Tragedy, a fragment of our original homeworld was broken away, and careened through space. The length of the interval in which the broken fragment traveled is unknown, but is assumed to be not very long. At any rate, this fragment soon collided into another planet, which is our current one."

"And you survived being flung through space," Santorelli said skeptically. "Without an atmosphere, without food, shelter. I mean, I'm no scientist, but…don't you need those things to survive?"

"You do," Menderash agreed, suspiciously. "Usually."

"What little we Gyuren required for survival were, luckily, on the fragment of planet," Dawlarson said, almost defensively. "Many of the number on the fragment _did _perish, but the strongest of us persevered."

"But it is clear that you cannot survive in extreme temperatures," Menderash pointed out, "or else you would not flee the seasonal changes underground. And despite what your homeworld's temperature was, being flung into space…"

"We do not _flee _the seasons," Dawlarson said. "But what we need for survival is embedded in the earth. Thus we inhabit the earth."

"And what you need for survival," Cassie said, catching on as quickly as she always did, "is that glyph. That Glyph."

The stare. "That is correct."

"You eat these crystals?" Jeanne said.

"No," Cassie said, her turn to correct now, "they gain nourishment just by being exposed to it."

"Radioactivity?" Jeanne said, straining for comprehension.

"No –"

(No –)

They had spoken at the same time. Cassie and Anku exchanged glances with their main eyes; Cassie smiled and waved her on to continue, and Anku did so.

(No. When a creature requires nourishment, it requires energy,) Ankulei explained, (which some, as you humans do, obtain via the physical breakdown and assimilation of certain elements into your body. However, some creatures can also obtain energy via pure exposure to an energy which they can assimilate directly and use to stimulate the function of internal organs and…so forth.)

"Somehow that sounds familiar," Marco said, hand to chin thoughtfully.

Yeah…it really did. But where…

"But you said that your technology was lost in the First Tragedy, not the Second," Menderash said. "If that's so, then you should have had _more _time to re-develop your technology."

"Unless you _couldn't _re-develop the technology of spaceflight," Cassie said slowly, "because you never developed it in the first place."

Dawlarson was silent. Anku and Menderash started – but they were too startled to say anything.

"It's true, isn't it?" Cassie said, shocked - but was it because she had actually guessed the truth, or because of the truth itself? "I can't believe it. You…the technology of spaceflight was _given_ to you."

Marco's mouth dropped.

And that was when even _I_ got it.

"You – the Gyuren – you're offset from the _Gedd_! And this – this Glyph – it's your _kandrona_!"

"The Gedd?" Jeanne echoed.

"_Kandrona_?" Santorelli echoed. "You mean like kandrona _rays_? But that's what the Yeerks…"

"Yeah," Marco said, "the Yeerks. All of you mole-guys, you…you evolved, or something, from the Gedd, when you got _fragmented _off your homeplanet. And you lost all of the – what was it called, the see – see –"

(Seerow's Kindness.)

"Seerow's Kindness," Marco agreed. "You lost it. And all of you guys are _infested _with _Yeerks_, and these Glyphs – are your kandrona. Oh my _God_."

"If this is true," Jeanne said hotly, "and you _are_ Yeerks – then how dare you accuse _us _of stealing bodies?"

"I have no idea," Dawlarson said, "what you are talking about."

"What do you mean, no idea?" Santorelli demanded. "Yeerks? Little slugs in your ear? They need kandrona rays to survive – just like _you_."

"I do not understand."

"The Gedd changed," Cassie pointed out. "They grew…nails. And their legs seem to have evened out. It's possible that the Yeerks somehow…evolved _into _them, or maybe…"

"It does not matter," Dawlarson said with irritation. "The history and biology of my race is not what matters here. What _does _matter is its future. You mentioned working together. We are willing to do this. As you are, still?"

No, not irritation. Not an irritated voice…a desperate one.

We weren't killed immediately because our help was _needed_.

Which meant that _we _had the advantage of negotiations.

"Yes," I agreed quickly, "yes, we are. But without space-flight…"

"Well, wait," Marco said. "You sure our big blue buddy isn't just going to 'Scottie, beam us up' when we're all done with this?"

(I was given no such impression,) Anku admitted, when attentions shifted to her, (and had rather entertained the hope that there would be someone with ready transportation already available.)

"Maybe he only neglected to mention it?" Jeanne suggested.

"Nevermind it," I said. "We can't trust in the Ellimist anyway. Look, in order for us to help you, you need to give us a way to get back home. Don't the Kelbrid have anything?"

Dawlarson hesitated. "Not that we know of."

"Do the Gyuren have anything? Any failed projects?" Maybe Menderash or Anku could fix them up. Maybe…

"Nothing."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Jake," Cassie interrupted. "It's unfair. It's obvious they don't have any technology. We already established that."

"But Cassie" – I hesitated; I didn't want to argue in front of the Gyuren. It was never good to show group disagreement, but she looked like she was going to argue about it. "We can't just agree to do something like this without getting anything in return."

Couldn't she see that they were _desperate_?

"Can't you see," Cassie demanded furiously, "that they're _desperate_? _God_, Jake! If you needed a biscuit for _everything_ that you did –"

"It's not about _rewards_, Cassie, it's about fair _trade_. It's about _leverage_. We need to secure a way back home – for whatever reason, _they _need our help. I just need to make sure that we get a way for us to get what _we _need."

"Well, what we need isn't just going to suddenly materialize just because _you _keep asking for it!"

"Alright! Fine! God, Cassie, when did you get so –"

I stopped. Oh, no.

Marco chuckled. "Oh, no. Top list of things you should _never_ say to a girl. Didn't you read my book?"

"Get so _what?_" Cassie demanded, ignoring him. "Get so _what_, Jake?"

I turned away. "Dawlarson, we're tired. Maybe we can discuss this later."

"Yes," he agreed. "There are certain chambers you may use for rest. You will be guided to them."

He spoke to the Blue-banded Gyuren behind us; and, without further word, we followed. Without further word.


End file.
